


Nocturne in E Flat Major (Op. 9 No. 2)

by sxxnwoo



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, Amnesia, Ballet Dancer Soonyoung, I'M SORRY STRAY KIDS, Jeon Wonwoo is Whipped, Lee Chan is the best man, M/M, Mentions of Stray Kids - Freeform, Minor Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Pianist Wonwoo, Pining, Soonyoung is also whipped but he doesn't know it yet, Temporary Amnesia, so much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 18:26:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17105846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxxnwoo/pseuds/sxxnwoo
Summary: Soonyoung wakes up in a strange hospital ward with no recollection of how he ended up there. An odd shrivelled man sits next to his bed like he's been sleeping there the entire night. Who is he and why does he look at Soonyoung like Soonyoung is the love of his life?//Or: Soonyoung loses his memories and maybe that's for the best.





	Nocturne in E Flat Major (Op. 9 No. 2)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [biinu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/biinu/gifts).



> Hi!! Merry Christmas!! I tried to fit in as many tropes that you liked so I hope this suits your taste!! I really love stray kids toooo and I'm glad you requested for them to have an honorary appearance in this fic!! (i guess, it's not all that honorary since they do play the role of "shitty friends" and "assholes" in this fic SO IM SORRY)! you asked for some sweeeeet piano scenes, but I wasn't able to fit many in there so I went with your second prompt on an amnesiac struggling in this world instead!! 
> 
> I wish you a wonderful Christmas and may the seasonal cheer lift your spirits!

In the middle of the night on the crowded street of Yongdae, the hiss of tyres against the smooth tarmac floor resounds through the air followed by the unmistakable crash of metal hitting metal and the sickening thud that followed as a car undulated across the street.

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

People are screaming. Soonyoung wishes they would stop. Somewhere farther, he could hear the wail of sirens. It was a distant sound, muffled by the pounding of his heart. Soonyoung is fleetingly aware of the taste of blood in his mouth, and he feels the cold hard ground biting into his back. _Why is he lying on the street floor?_ The night is too dark for his liking; his vision blurry and disorienting. It’s difficult to keep his eyes open. 

Wonwoo… He wants to see Wonwoo. He wants Wonwoo to ease this pain, the throbbing agony in his head, and searing pangs in his leg…

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

Someone is slapping him. His head is supported by a pair of warm hands, and two fingers press to the side of his neck. The man’s hands are so warm in contrast to Soonyoung’s freezing body. His nose is numb, and the pain, _god_ , the pain is overwhelming. His head feels as if it’s been split open by a butcher knife and he can’t feel his legs anymore.

“Sir? Sir, can you hear me?” A disembodied voice says but Soonyoung doesn’t really know who it’s directed to. His eyes droop, and the pain eases him into a drowse. The deluge of noises dissolves into the deep shadowy depth.

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

He’s rolling — at least that’s what it feels like to be on a bed that’s moving on wheels. Soonyoung is vaguely aware of two heads looming above him. They’re both wearing green frocks, looking anxious, frantic and busy. One of them catches Soonyoung watching and mouths something to which he can’t really decipher. His intuition tells him that he’s somewhere safe and somewhere indoors. It doesn’t take long for darkness to catch up with him again.

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

There is a soft beeping sound. The chatter stirs him to consciousness, reminding him constantly of its presence, whatever that may be. Soonyoung faintly registers the comforting softness that supports him — a bed — he must be in his room. But why does his room smell like sour disinfectants and acid antiseptic? Soonyoung pries his eyes open.

He finds himself in a hospital ward. _What?_ Frantic, he checks himself— he looks largely unscathed save for the large cast on his leg, angry red chafes on his arms and a mildly hurting head. They must have given him painkillers. _But why?_ _What happened to him?_ Perplexed, Soonyoung lets his eyes wander the room.

The room was bright with rays of sunlight flowing through the prairie windows casting shadows of the blinds onto the floor. Bleached white walls surround Soonyoung’s bed; they are not peeling or dirty but faded to a hue that is insipid. The only thing that bears colour is the flowers and cards laid on his bedside table. The room wasn’t very interesting, but something else catches Soonyoung by surprise.

There’s a man at sitting at his bedside. His head rests on the edge of soonyoung’s bed, buried between his arms and his face tucked between his elbows. Soonyoung didn’t him notice him at first because he made no sound and was motionless. His clothes were rumpled, and his hair unkempt as if he fell asleep because he’s been there all night. The stranger was not at all menacing but it still puts Soonyoung on guard. He's not particularly fond of waking up beside someone he doesn't know.

Soonyoung attempts to sit up and scoot away from the man but the movement sends spikes of sharp pain up his legs. He bites down a gasp as he grips at the cast. His stirring must have alerted the man of his presence for the man stirs and abruptly springs upright, wide-eyed as if he’s been shocked.

The man was undeniably handsome— a flurry of dark brown hair with soft pale skin and sharp eyes. Metal-rimmed round glasses framed his face, slightly askew from the reclined position he was in earlier. Nevertheless, Soonyoung did not recognise him.

“Soonyoung?” The stranger asks tentatively, mouth open in disbelief. The man knows his name, and he utters it with such familiarity like he’s been saying it for years. Yet, Soonyoung has no recollection to reciprocate the gesture, so Soonyoung stays silent.

 _Who is he,_ soonyoung wonders. _Perhaps, a doctor? No, a doctor would have a medical coat with identification and scrubs._

Unaware of Soonyoung’s ambivalence, the man lurches forward, sweeping Soonyoung into a tight hug. Soonyoung yelps in surprise, but the man laughs.  

“Soonyoungie, you scared the shit out of me. God, I wouldn’t know what to do if you  _never_ woke up. I thought you’d be a vegetable. Hell, you would have hated that.” The man rambles as he pulls away, hands cupping Soonyoung’s cheeks. Relief washes over the man’s face, as he brightens up considerably with eyes crinkling into a smile.

Soonyoung blinks. The man smiles too fondly and Soonyoung feels rather uncomfortable being a recipient of something so intimate. Has he been mistaken for someone else?

“I’m sorry I yelled at you on the phone last night. I know we haven’t really been the same since we last… talked,” The man says, suddenly looking very sheepish as he averts his gaze to his feet and adjusted his glasses nervously. Soonyoung hasn’t had the slightest clue what he’s saying.

 _Last night?_ Soonyoung was sure he has never met the man before in his life. He definitely did not call this man last night. Last night, as he remembered, was spent sitting in his room watching Shinee’s new comeback _alone_. So, Either A) the man was batshit crazy or B) soonyoung is stuck in limbo in the Inception dreamscape.

Soonyoung frowns at the man in confusion and shrugging off the man’s hold on him. The man flinches and raises his hands defensively. He carries on hurriedly, “I bought you kimchi fried rice and that new limited edition Shinee bobblehead to make up for it! You’ll love them-”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Soonyoung stops him, eyes blinking bafflingly.

The man freezes.

An awkward pause.

The man stares at Soonyoung blankly. His smile fades. His eyes are no longer gentle but... Fearful? Broken? Fragile? All at once Soonyoung feels as if he’s killed a puppy and maybe he shouldn’t have asked anything at all.

“You… You’re joking, right?” The man cough-laughs, wringing his hands.

“No, I’m sorry.” It’s best to be truthful, Soonyoung thinks. “You must have mistaken me for… someone else.”

“You _really_ don’t know who I am?”

“No,” Soonyoung repeats. “I _really_ don’t.”

“Oh,” The stranger’s voice cracks a little. Soonyoung pretends not to hear it. _Why is he so broken over me, anyway?_ Another blanket of uncomfortable silence sits between them.

“Do you know how I got here?” Soonyoung decides to break it, his words a little slurred from whatever meds the doctors put him on. His mind was sluggish.

“I… You got in a car crash two days ago.” The man recites in a monotone, his expression heavily despondent. “The doctors said you… had a concussion, fractured your left leg and suffered head trauma, hence the coma for 36 hours.”

“Oh,” Soonyoung says, struggling to rack his brain to remember the accident. That would explain why his leg was bandaged and his arms bruised. But, Soonyoung could remember no such incident. As far as he was aware, the first day of college was a week ago, he is a freshman and lessons start in two days. He hasn’t even gotten a driver’s license yet.

“Was I driving?” Soonyoung asks.

“No,” The man replies him.

“Who… Did anyone die?”

The man bristles and his shoulders tensed. Soonyoung senses anger from the man. The man grinds out tightly, “No, those bastards were pretty unscathed, actually. _You_ suffered the worst injuries because your airbag was bust and you sat shotgun.”

The man scoffs disbelievingly and continues, “I told you, you idiot, _I told you_. I said not to go out with those bunch of irresponsible assholes. How could you be so _stupid_ to let them drive you home? You could’ve called m-” The man’s voice cracks.  

 _I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m sure I just wasn’t thinking straight then. I would have listened to you._ Soonyoung wants to tell the man. Instead, he swallows and blurts stupidly, “Are you the witness of the accident?”

“No!” The man exclaims, clearly offended. “You… you _really_ don’t remember?”

Soonyoung shakes his head. The stranger sighs heavily before standing up, picking up his bag and heads for the door.

“I’ll get your doctor, he’ll want to know you’re awake.” is all the stranger says.

The thought of being alone in the cold room frightens Soonyoung. Though the man was a complete enigma to Soonyoung, his presence felt oddly… safe.

“Wait, please,” Soonyoung blurts, voice almost desperate and pleading. _Don’t go, don’t leave me._ The man freezes, stopping mid-action.

“Who are you? Who are you… to me? We seemed… close.” Soonyoung takes his chance.

A pause. The stranger turns to look at Soonyoung, casting a forlorn gaze before he speaks.

“Yeah, we were and we’ve known each other since 9th grade. I’m Jeon Wonwoo. Sometimes, you call me Nonu and Jeon Wonwoo Bag of Luck (Bokjumeoni) to annoy me.”

Soonyoung swallows hard, the name doesn’t ring a bell, but there are traces of familiarity.

 _Jeon Wonwoo Jeon Wonwoo Jeon Wonwoo._ Soonyoung struggles to remember and attempts to put the face to the name. There was a wisp of dark hair and dark eyes and a nose scrunch… but it’s gone as fast as it came. Wonwoo looks at him expectantly, hopeful and searching. 

Soonyoung tries again, he _wills_ himself to think, to recall, but still, nothing. The more he forces it, the less he feels familiar with the name and the more foreign it sounds on his tongue. It’s no use. There isn’t a Jeon Wonwoo in his life.

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung says finally, looking anywhere but Wonwoo’s eyes. “I’m not sure if I remember you.”

Wonwoo’s face falls, and his shoulders slump in resignation. He gives Soonyoung a nod in finality and without a word, he leaves the room.

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

The odd man— Wonwoo— doesn’t come back to visit. For the next two weeks, Soonyoung was kept under medical observation. His CT and MRI scan came back. The doctors diagnosed him with post-traumatic retrograde amnesia and his college was informed.

Soonyoung was clueless as to what retrograde amnesia really meant but the doctors watered down the medical terms and told him that his loss of memory was only temporary.

That had Soonyoung shouting in joy before quieting down when the doctor shot him a vexing look. Soonyoung was told that this sort of amnesia does not affect his abilities and skills.

Relief brings a smile to his face. He could still dance once his legs heal! He hadn’t forgotten the basic things like how to do basic math, how to drive and tying his shoelaces! That was enough to lift Soonyoung’s mood for a while— if it was just people and incidents he forgot, he’ll be able to manage.

Except…

 

Soonyoung might just never remember Wonwoo. Okay, fair enough. It’s not like he _wants_ to remember Wonwoo.

Yet, this bothers Soonyoung to a great extent and he isn’t entirely sure why he’s become so invested in remembering Wonwoo. Perhaps it was the way Wonwoo’s gestures seemed so intimate and so gentle like he was genuinely concerned for Soonyoung’s well being. They must have been good friends. Hell, Soonyoung is generally bad at maintaining friendships and for him to have kept a friend since 9th Grade…  Wonwoo must have really been someone special to him. This keeps Soonyoung pensive for the rest of the day.

Throughout the week, Soonyoung saw a multitude of different visitors coming to visit; most he did not recognise. There was his roommate, Chan; he remembers Chan from high school and Chan was more than happy to see him alive, smothering him and bear-hugging him before overcompensating by acting nonchalant as if he didn’t just squeal at the sight of Soonyoung recovering healthily. There were Seokmin and Seungkwan; two energetic duos who soonyoung had allegedly met in college and while soonyoung doesn’t remember them at all, their personalities clicked immediately— the three of them laughing and joking for hours. There were Jihoon and Mingyu; One very tall and menacing whereas the other came off as amicably adorable. How wrong Soonyoung was when he learns that their personalities were polar opposites to their appearance. Jihoon is a palm tiger with a nasty temper and sharp wits, while Mingyu is a big puppy with a gentle heart. Soonyoung finds his taste in friends rather odd, but not at all uncomfortable.

They kept him up to speed and told him about the craziest things Soonyoung had done in college, hoping it would trigger some form of memory. It didn’t, but soonyoung still loved hearing about how he had annihilated Seungkwan in a drunk rap battle, had washed his laundry in the college fountain because his water bill was terminated and skinny dipped in the public pool with Mingyu as a dare.

None of them had mentioned Jeon Wonwoo, and he wondered why Wonwoo never hangs out with him.

“Did I know a Jeon Wonwoo?” Soonyoung had asked his ‘newfound’ friends. They hesitated, but their reactions tell Soonyoung that it was taboo and something to be avoided like landmines.

Chan had an impressive poker face. Seokmin and Seungkwan exchanged apprehensive looks. Mingyu choked on his saliva and Jihoon tensed.

“You two had a special bond.” Seokmin had replied first, smiling awkwardly and carefully picking out his words as if he would accidentally blurt out something he shouldn’t. “Wonwoo doesn’t really open up to anyone much, and he’s not too fond of talking to people. But he’s comfortable with you, and he laughs a lot more when he’s with you.”

Seungkwan nodded vehemently in agreement. “You guys go way back, I think. You guys were, uh, problematic once-”

Jihoon shoots Seungkwan a glare.

“-but, you guys always bounce back. Always.” Seungkwan quickly reconciles.  

Other than Seokmin and Seungkwan, no one was willing to offer him anymore other than the olive branch that Soonyoung will find out once he gets his memories back.

When Soonyoung was finally discharged from the hospital and off whatever meds that he had to take, he was able to return to his shared apartment and return to college with crutches. The doctors had hoped that old routines and scenes could jog Soonyoung’s memories and accelerate the memory recovery process.

The apartment was unfamiliar to Soonyoung. Apparently, he and Chan rented it two weeks after college started. It was odd seeing objects and articles he recognized since he was young juxtaposed with new things that don’t belong to him in the same room side-by-side. The cute stuffed animals he’s had since he was three was placed with newer and weirder stuffed animals he didn’t know he liked. Since when did he get desert fox plushies? His Shinee posters shared the wall with posters of films and books that he would never read or watch His closet was filled with colours and weird graphic hoodies that Soonyoung _knows_ he would not _ever_ be seen alive in.

Yet, these things strike a chord in him. His room filled with sounds of laughter, two dorks lay in bed, huddled and talking, buying matching plaid couple coats and the same warm hands tucking in Soonyoung’s collar, adjusting it fondly for him, and Soonyoung bashfully looking up to meet the familiar dark sharp eyes of—

Who?

 

The snippets of nebulous imagery leave Soonyoung in a daze. He wills himself to find it again, desperately clinging onto remnants of the fading memory, but-

“You alright?” Chan enters the room, breaking Soonyoung from his reverie. Soonyoung hears the concern in Chan’s voice, so he smiles and nods reassuringly.

“Why- Why is there a mismatched parka in my closet?” Soonyoung asks, rummaging through his closet and pulling out a bright neon pink and yellow windbreaker.

“That’s your favourite jacket,” Chan says and eyes him, warily.

“What? No way, I would not be seen in this atrocity.” Soonyoung says, affronted. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not! Actually, you wouldn’t _stop_ wearing them, ever since Wonwoo-Hyung bought it from Jap-” Chan stops short as if saying something he shouldn’t have. Too late, Soonyoung catches on.

“Wonwoo bought this for me?”

Chan looks guilty. “Did I say that? I only meant-”

“I can’t believe I let him plague my beautiful black-and-white only wardrobe policy,” Soonyoung mutters angrily, cutting Chan’s explanation short.

“You let him do more than just your closet.” Chan scrunches his nose distastefully as if reminded of how many times Wonwoo has invaded this room.  

Soonyoung is about to ask what Chan meant but Chan changes the subject quickly.

“C’mon, get dressed. You stink like hospital acetone.” He says, shoving random clothes from his closet into Soonyoung’s hands and jostling Soonyoung into the bathroom.

Left alone again, Soonyoung turns to scowl at the kitschy windbreaker. In spite of himself, Soonyoung slips it on. It was a little oversized for his frame, with sleeves pooling slightly over his hands, but nonetheless comfortable and warm. The weight of the jacket was light on his shoulders and the smell of dry cedar and vanilla wafts through the air.

He takes a look at himself in the bathroom mirror.

 

 _( “I look like a twelve-year-old child, Wonu-ah.” Soonyoung pouts at the man sprawled on his bed._  

_“What are you talking about? You always look like that.” Wonwoo snickers but he bears no malice. His eyes roam Soonyoung’s frame hungrily._

_“Didn’t they have a black one?” Soonyoung smoothens out the jacket, turning round to get a look at the different angles in the mirror._

_“They did,” Wonwoo says, turning onto his back. “But you always wear black and white so I thought I’d change it up a little. You don’t like it?”_

_“I like it! It’s… really comfortable actually.” Soonyoung comments. He does a little twirl for Wonwoo. Wonwoo swallows, and Soonyoung simpers coyly. “Do_ _you_ _like it?”_

_“Yeah, it suits you,” Wonwoo replies, without a beat. “You look pretty in bright colours.”_

_Soonyoung’s face flushes as red as the pink on his jacket. “You know, I’ll never take this off now, and it’s going to be your fault.”_

_“I know.” Wonwoo smiles, playing with the sleeve of Soonyoung’s new jacket. “I just wanted to see you blush.”_

_This makes Soonyoung go even redder, his ears burning._

_“Stupid Wonwoo,” Soonyoung mutters under his breath._

_“What was that?” Wonwoo echoes and takes this chance to tug hard at Soonyoung sleeves, pulling him down onto the bed until Soonyoung stumbles easily on top of him. Soonyoung lets out an involuntary laugh._

_“I couldn’t quite hear you,” Wonwoo whispers, as he stares up at Soonyoung, eyes glistening._

_“I said, you’re an idiot.” Soonyoung presses his forehead against Wonwoo’s, their breaths mingle together._

_“You blush too easily.” Wonwoo teases._

_And Soonyoung tips his head down to capture Wonwoo’s lips. Chaste and soft, with no malice or lust. Wonwoo tastes like vanilla and fresh spruce. It’s sweet and it makes Soonyoung’s heart flutter and his insides into jelly- )_

 

 _Stop it_.

Soonyoung shrugs off the windbreaker hastily, shaken by what he’s just seen. It felt private, and a moment that he shouldn’t have seen— almost as if he had stumbled upon a memory that wasn’t his, that wasn’t meant to be shared. The irony was not lost on him, but he could not imagine doing something like that with… Wonwoo?

Soonyoung’s not gay, no, he can’t be. Last time he checked, he was definitely straight. He liked girls, he had a crush on Yerim in tenth grade, and then Soljin in eleven. So, he’s definitely not into kissing Wonwoo— they’re just best friends, they must be.

The faint scent of the jacket lingers in the air as Soonyoung hurries into the shower and washes up with cold water.

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

Returning to college was another level of unfamiliarity on its own. College workload is hell, and he’s way behind in terms of his courses for his major because of the memory loss.

He wasn’t allowed to restart the year so he just had to pick up from where he was before the accident. That’s one and a half years worth of music theory and performance studies which includes flow and spatial choreography techniques. It was grossly unfair, Soonyoung had lamented and wailed ceaselessly.

That’s not the worst part. The college is a fucking labyrinth now. Often, Soonyoung looks like a lost puppy with his mouth hanging open as he searches for his next lecture hall, manoeuvring through blocks of buildings. Apparently, Soonyoung has also lost the ability to read signs because he always ends up back to square one right where he started.

So, who can blame him when he runs headfirst into Jeon Wonwoo while turning a corner?

“Ah, sorry.” Soonyoung yelps when he collides with the human wall. Two hands gently support his waist and steady him.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” Soonyoung says but it comes out more like a question than a statement. Wonwoo was dressed in a plain sweatshirt and ripped jeans. He looks just like Soonyoung remembers— shaggy dark hair, dainty round glasses framing his sharp eyes and pillowy lips perfect for soft kisses—

Soonyoung could feel a red-hot heat creeping up and blood flushing his cheeks and ears. Soonyoung hopes, with all fingers crossed, that Wonwoo would not notice…  

“Why are you blushing?” Wonwoo cocks his head slightly to the side, puzzled.  

_Damn that perceptive bastard._

“I’m not.” Soonyoung retorts, jerking out of Wonwoo’s grip. Wonwoo’s hands fall to his sides. He raises an eyebrow, unconvinced but he doesn’t inquire further.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Soonyoung implores, changing the subject quickly.

“Shouldn’t _you_?” Wonwoo shoots right back at him. “You’re five minutes late for musical theory.”

“Yeah, well, I’m getting there.” Soonyoung moves to turn but Wonwoo grabs him by the wrist and turns him in the other direction.

“You’re in the wrong building. Your lecture hall is in the Performing Arts block,” Wonwoo points at the structure opposite the building they are in, one decorated with abstract gargoyles and an impressive vertical garden wall.

Soonyoung ducks his head, clearly embarrassed.

“Thanks.” He mutters, and without looking at Wonwoo, he brisk-walks the other direction as quickly as possible. Soonyoung ends up entering the lecture twenty minutes late, so he quickly picks a seat at the back and starts his laptop.

Halfway into the lecture about triad chords, Soonyoung realises that Wonwoo had his schedule memorised.  

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

There are nights where Soonyoung could not sleep. Soonyoung was not an insomniac, but the prospect of never getting his memories back keeps him anxious and assaults his mind constantly when at rest. Today was one of those nights; No matter how much flipping and turning, there was no comfortable position to fall asleep in. Frustrated, he gets up and pours himself a goddamn glass of milk.

Soonyoung is halfway done with his drink when he hears it. The sound is faint but the melody was distinct, penetrating the quiet night air with its mellow anthem. Someone was playing the piano in the building, and it seems to be coming from the apartment next to theirs.

The music is clearer in Soonyoung’s room— not too loud to disturb the peace and quiet, but enough to be crisply audible. As Soonyoung lay in bed, the tune fills the room, like tidal waves undulating on the shores in smooth columns of notes and bars.

The emotions and tension that the song exudes are palpable. Whoever was playing the piano wasn’t just doing it for enjoyment, they were communicating; drawing from their inner turmoil, deepest feelings and interweaving them into each and every note.

Soonyoung understands— no— He _knows_ because that’s exactly what he does when he’s dancing. The chords were hauntingly familiar, like a baroque etude that he doesn’t know the name of, like an embrace from an old friend, like a tang of nostalgic homely piquancy. The melody was rueful yet sanguine as if expressing yearning and regret over a loss and hope for forgiveness. The notes whisper its tunes to Soonyoung, telling him the tale of a long-lost love, of passion and desire, of remorse and sacrifice.

 

_( The song was a waltz, Tchaikovsky’s Waltz Op. 39 No. 9, Soonyoung was familiar with this piece. The spins, and the turns and the jumps come to him easily as he does a couple of saut de basques and a grand jeté en tournant across the dance studio._

_Soonyoung had first met Wonwoo in 9th-grade dance class. Wonwoo played his piano accompaniment. The teacher, for some reason, thought it was a good idea to pair two of them together. The teacher was obviously out of his mind._

_Soonyoung and Wonwoo never got along well, because they never talked much in the first place. Wonwoo was quiet and Soonyoung couldn’t stop running his mouth. Soonyoung liked to joke around during practices, telling Wonwoo jokes he’s found on the internet to lighten the mood, but wonwoo never responds._

_“Do you like Tchaikovsky?” Soonyoung had asked cautiously, hoping to break the ice._

_Wonwoo merely nods._

_“Do you play the piano often?”_

_A nod._

_“I never knew how to play the piano. It seems fun.”_

_Silence._

_“Do you know how to play other instruments?”_

_Another nod._

_“Do you want to try dancing?”_

_Wonwoo shakes his head._

_“Why not?”_

_A shrug._

_Soonyoung didn’t know what the shrug entailed but it was clear to Soonyoung that Wonwoo wasn’t interested in talking so he stopped trying after a few days of one-sided conversations. It was too tiring to crack Wonwoo’s impregnable shell._

_“Why don’t you just switch partners?” Chan had suggested to Soonyoung, listening to Soonyoung’s lament after lament._

_But, Soonyoung didn’t want to switch partners either. Soonyoung wants an A grade for his project work. Despite the cold and vacant personality, Soonyoung knows Wonwoo’s the best at what he does. He’s seen Wonwoo play Chopin's Etude in G# minor, Op.25 No.6 with his eyes closed while everyone else was still struggling with Bach’s Preludes._

_“He’s much better than my pianist.” Jisung— his high school classmate— had told Soonyoung during a water break. “I mean Bangchan’s great but_ _this_ _guy’s the next Debussy.”_

_So Soonyoung was stuck with Wonwoo._

_For the first two weeks, Wonwoo had tried to ignore Soonyoung as much as he could and Soonyoung had learnt to shut his mouth around Wonwoo. Unfortunately, being partners for a graded project made it difficult for them to pretend the other isn’t in the same room. Communicating had been hard for both of them and that inevitably led to conflict._

_“Right there!” Soonyoung had said, “It was supposed to be 16 counts, now it’s only 8 counts! You changed the notes.”_

_Wonwoo let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms across his chest._

_“I can’t just_ _change_ _the notes! The score is fixed, I could only improvise with chord progressions but not the notes!” Wonwoo bites out, voice levelled but his gaze was fierce and scathing._

_“Well, I know you improvised something and it doesn’t feel right!” Soonyoung snaps back. He runs a hand through his hair, frustratingly._

_“What do you know, Kwon?” Wonwoo asked coldly, spitting out his name like venom.“You’ve never touched or played the piano.”_

_“Yeah, but I have ears, you moron!” Soonyoung retorted, indignantly throwing his arms up in the air._

_“Oh my god,” Wonwoo muttered exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are insufferable.”_

_Soonyoung felt anger boiling low in his stomach. He hated this, hated Wonwoo looking at him like he was a child who didn’t understand music like he was uneducated and dumb like he was below Wonwoo because Soonyoung wasn’t gifted with musical abilities._

_Perhaps it was the stress from their performance day looming just a fortnight ahead, or finally reaching the breaking point of their strained relationship, or the immature need to prove that he wasn’t going to take Wonwoo’s condescension prompted Soonyoung to retaliate aggressively-_

_“Insufferable? If there’s someone who’s insufferable it’s YOU and your inflated ego!” Soonyoung stalks towards Wonwoo, voice sharp and cutting. Wonwoo does not back down, nor drawback. He steels._

_“And what, should I be more like you?” Wonwoo narrowed his eyes and hisses bitterly. “Scream loudly like a twelve-year-old and laugh at trashy pop culture references with a bunch of jocks? I think I’d rather be arrogant than be an airhead.”_

_“You think you’re better than us.” Soonyoung made an accusing jab at Wonwoo, voice rising. “You think being able to play Franz Liszt and Schumann makes you better than everyone else.”_

_“Maybe you should learn how to play them, then you would finally grow some brains,” Wonwoo seethed, his fists clenched._

_“You’re full of shit, Jeon.”_

_Soonyoung didn’t know who threw the first punch, all he knew was being tackled to the floor suddenly and Wonwoo jamming his knee painfully into his stomach. Soonyoung, having stronger bodily reflexes, caught another punch that came flying for his cheekbones and used the momentum to throw Wonwoo off of him. The struggle continues, with blind jabs and kicks thrown here and there. Soonyoung had yelled about Wonwoo’s arrogance and Wonwoo had bared his teeth, growling that Soonyoung was no better. Everything hurts._

_Somehow, Soonyoung ended up pinning Wonwoo down, straddling him forcefully, knee digging into Wonwoo’s thigh and hands trapping Wonwoo’s wrists above his head. Neither of them made another move, and the room was filled with the sounds of laboured breathing. Wonwoo stopped struggling._

_Soonyoung let go of Wonwoo’s hands first, collapsing next to him on the floor. Soonyoung’s cheeks were definitely going to bruise tomorrow._

_“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Wonwoo said quietly._

_“No,” Soonyoung shook his head, sitting up and padded across the room towards his bag. “But you’re bleeding.”_

_Wonwoo wiped his nose with the back of his hand, inadvertently smearing some blood on his cheeks._

_“So?” Wonwoo challenged, largely unbothered by the blood.“Aren’t you going to finish what you started?”_

_Soonyoung shook his head again as he took a pack of tissues out from his bag. “I don’t want to hurt you like that.”_

_“How_ _awfully_ _considerate of you.” Wonwoo snorted sarcastically._

_Soonyoung threw the packet tissue at Wonwoo before sitting down next to him again. Wonwoo caught the tissues easily._

_As he watched Wonwoo stop his nose from bleeding, Soonyoung felt a pang of guilt in his gut. They needed this, they needed to get the tension out of their system, they needed this to help Wonwoo open up to Soonyoung and for Soonyoung to stop holding an unjust grudge against Wonwoo._

_They sit in the silence for several minutes and listening to their laboured breathing even out._

_“I don’t think I’m better than you. I’m sorry if you felt that way” Wonwoo spoke first. “I just wished you would take music seriously instead of fooling around.”_

_“You never told me to shut up,” Soonyoung sulks. “I didn’t know why you were always so angry at me. I thought you just… didn’t like me.”_

_“I wasn’t angry,” Wonwoo replies, voice softer now, as he leans his chin on his palm. “I was just figuring you out.”_

_“What?”_

_“You’re difficult to understand. You do weird things, and you do things normal people don’t.”  Wonwoo explains, staring at the floor. He plays with the bloody balled up tissue._

_“Neither do you,” Soonyoung points out, noting that Wonwoo has never been doing things normal people could— playing Bach’s most difficult piece for example._

_Wonwoo shakes his head. “You speak too fast, and you move on to new things quickly. It was hard for me to respond to your antics because you’re always rattling on about something. It’s overwhelming.”_

_“Wow,” Soonyoung comments, staring at Wonwoo incredulously. “All this while, I thought you hated me because I was a loud, noisy animal.”_

_“You are a loud and noisy animal. You’re a dog. A hyperactive steroid-induced big dog.” Wonwoo says, flatly. Soonyoung shoves Wonwoo lightly._

_“Shut up, I can be a cat too. Look,” Soonyoung nuzzled Wonwoo’s back, pushing and prodding Wonwoo, meowing incessantly until Wonwoo lets out a defeated chuckle, lips quirking up into a smile. Mission Accomplished._

_“Soonyoung?” )_

 

“—Hyung? Soonyoung-hyung!” His alarm clock calls and Soonyoung becomes vaguely aware of the blinding sunlight assaulting him. He squints. Chan hovers above his bed.

“We have classes in ten,” Chan says when Soonyoung groans. He must have finally fallen asleep last night; props to the pianist above them with impeccable skills that had such a soporific effect on Soonyoung.

Still, Soonyoung remembers the dream—no— the memory. It was too vivid to be a dream, and Soonyoung definitely remembered having troubles with his performance project in 9th grade. That’s how he must have met Wonwoo.

“Chan, did you hear a piano next door, last night?” Soonyoung asks absent-mindedly, as they walk towards the studio.

“No,” Chan replies, tapping away at his phone. “Did you?”

“Yeah. It was faint, but I definitely heard it. I think there’s a pianist on the floor above us.”

“Hyung, there’s no one above us. For years, the apartment’s been empty…” Chan looks up from the phone and stares at Soonyoung, mouth hanging open and feigning horror. “They said no one ever lives there ever since a family of two died from a nasty disease. Some say, the ghost of the father still haunts the apartment with his tunes.”

Soonyoung cracks up, as Chan began mimicking a zombie, eyes rolling back and arms jerking.

“Stop it. This is serious. They played a really nice waltz last night.” Soonyoung says. “I think it sounded like a piece filled with regret, or they’ve just lost someone special and the waltz was a sort of tribute to them.”

“So, you’re some music psychoanalyst now? You can tell people by their music? What does someone who listens to Joy Division and Sex Pistols feel like?” Chan snickers as Soonyoung scowls at him.

“I mean it, Chan. I thought the melody was pretty sad. What if this was their cry of help?”

“Listen,” Chan explains, slinging an arm around Soonyoung’s neck all macho-like. “Our apartment building is filled with batshit crazy college students who are too drunk or too high to play a suicidal concerto on the piano. I’m sure the guy’s just your imagination.”

Soonyoung concedes with an inaudible “if you say so” and Chan beams at him.

“Atta boy,” He coos at Soonyoung, ruffling his hair like a _dog_ and messing up Soonyoung’s meticulously primed bangs.

“Oi! I may have lost my memory, but I’m still older than you, you brat!” Soonyoung shouts as Chan bolts off cackling madly. Soonyoung prayed to the gods that Chan gets his shoe stuck in dog shit and icky gum.

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

Soonyoung hated his amnesia. While the amnesia did not affect his dancing skills, he was still lagging behind the rest of the class who was memorially ahead of him for nearly two years. In addition, his broken leg had only just healed and was mercilessly stiff. So there were techniques he still couldn’t perfect while everyone was already moving on to the next big thing.

The Dance department holds the annual End-of-Year Winter Performance and that was apparently graded sixty percent of his GPA. Each class had their own recital and Soonyoung’s class was assigned Romeo and Juliet— a timeless classic and also the hardest piece out of all the other classical ballet pieces. Every other guy in his class is trying out for the lead solo, Romeo and Soonyoung just doesn’t have the confidence to sign up.

People had _expectations_ of him— left behind by the _old_ him. Apparently, _old_ Soonyoung used to be the best in his major and in the whole damn school. Before the injury, there was a broad-based consensus that Soonyoung was going to dance Romeo, but now with that spot open, everyone else is taking the chance.

On its own, losing his “first” position isn’t a huge deal. What irked Soonyoung the most was the looks of pity and sympathy thrown in his way when he couldn’t hit that quadruple pirouette or when he makes a rookie mistake in choreography. They think it’s some kind of disability, and some classmates treat him as if he was a fragile child who needed to be reminded constantly that “it’s alright, just go slow” and “its okay, take it easy.”

Then, on the flip side of the coin, there were classmates who were just outright dicks to him, as if rubbing it in his face wasn’t painful enough.

“Yo, Kwon, you sure you don’t wanna join the freshmen class? Don’t you get tired of _limping_ your way up here?” Hyunjin had shouted from the other end of the room, which was followed by thunderous laughter and wolf-whistles from his little boy group. Soonyoung had to bite his tongue hard to refrain from giving them a piece of his mind. He doesn’t know what relationship he has with them before this, but he was sure he wouldn’t have hung out with that bunch of assholes like them.

During lunch, Soonyoung followed Chan to the long wooden tables outside the campus cafe, where the bunch— Seokmin, Seungkwan, Junhui, Jihoon, Minghao and Mingyu— are always huddled at. Soonyoung liked them very much, and a month after he was back in college, Soonyoung had already felt like they were _his_ group of friends. This was where he belonged; listening and playing along with Seungkwan’s ever-so-dramatic monologues, laughing and impersonating TV characters with Seokmin, coming up with wild elaborate plans with Jihoon to prank Mingyu, practicing dance moves with Minghao and Junhui, creating vaporwave memes with Hansol and cooing at Chan like he’s his little brother whenever he can.

“Were they always like this?” Soonyoung had asked Seungkwan about Hyunjin and his gang, while bitterly munching on his sandwich.

“Yeah, they think they’re a big deal in college,” Seungkwan says. “Bunch of fakes, really. They suck up to anyone who’s better than them to get brownie points and party invitations, they used to be your friends too.”  

“I was friends with them?” Soonyoung splutters, coughing when his food went down the wrong pipe. Jihoon slaps him exceptionally hard on his back, which made it a lot worse because not only did his throat hurt, but his back too.

“Yeah, You told us to ‘see the good in them’” Seungkwan replies flatly with hands scribbling air quotations. Soonyoung turns to look at Hyunjin’s group at the other end of the cafe.

“Have I ever punched them in the face before?” Soonyoung asks, as Hyunjin and Changbin laugh obnoxiously and rest their legs on the cafe table pompously.

“You always wanted to,” Seokmin laughs. “But it was Wonwoo who did it.”

“What did I do again?” Wonwoo appears seemingly out of nowhere with a tray of food. Soonyoung almost chokes on his food in surprise again. But, Junhui and Seokmin scooted closer to make space for Wonwoo on the bench as if Wonwoo had always sat with them during lunch breaks.

“We were savouring the time you socked Hyunjin and Changbin in the face after practice last month,” Jihoon replies Wonwoo easily, giving him a fist bump. “Please do it again, when you can.”

Wonwoo lets out a small bark of laughter as he unwraps his bagel and Soonyoung stares. Wonwoo looked like he just stepped out of a magazine shoot, as usual. He wore a loose cadet blue button up, that exposed a little bit too much of his collarbone. The same round-framed glasses perched on his nose. Wonwoo had grown, that’s for sure. He recalls the small scrawny boy from his first memory last night of the both of them. He’s gotten taller, and a lot more… chiselled? virile? manly?

His reverie was interrupted by the buzz of his phone in his pocket. He puts down his sandwich, wiping his fingers on some napkins before pulling out his phone. It’s from kakaotalk.  

 

**Mingyu sUnBaENiM**

_You gotta stop staring at Wonwoo like he’s a snacc_

_If u wanna get into his pants_

_U gotta play hard to get_

_Not drool over him like he’s your wet dream ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ_

 

Soonyoung sends a glare at Mingyu across the table, as Mingyu trembles from holding back his laughter.

 

**Kwonfire**

_Go back to sucking Minghao’s dick, Gyu._

_I see u playing footsie with him like 24/7_

 

**Mingyu sUnBaENiM**

_Yum. U know, at least i get some dick_

_but u…_

_Get n o n e_

 

Mingyu sends him a flying kiss from across to which Soonyoung returns with the finger. Several seconds later, they both break down cackling their lungs out. The rest of them pay them no mind, as if they’re used to Mingyu and Soonyoung's antics, and know better than to ask what they’re doing. It’s probably something stupid anyway.

Throughout lunch, Wonwoo doesn’t acknowledge Soonyoung at all, as if they’re not only _inches_ apart with knees brushing each other occasionally. While it didn’t seem to bother Wonwoo at all, physical contact made Soonyoung nervous.

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

In the end, Soonyoung did sign to audition to dance Romeo for the year-end showcase. Soonyoung had walked out of the audition not expecting to get the role or any role at all for that matter. Much to everyone’s surprise, Soonyoung found his name scrawled messily at the top of the audition results bulletin board next to the golden fine print letter spelt “Romeo”. By one hell of a good fortune, Soonyoung manages to land himself as the lead soloist and that came with a hoard of responsibilities.

With the year-end performance in less than three weeks now, Soonyoung practices late into the night, holed up in the studio and repeating movements over and over again. On some nights, it had gotten so late to the point that his dance instructor gave him the keys to the studio so he could lock up when he’s done. 

Soonyoung feels he’s still lacking in movement control and pacing. A healed leg just doesn’t work as well as the original, and he still couldn’t stay in attitude position without his leg looking awkward. He had asked his teacher to give the solo to Hyunjin or someone better, but his teacher insisted that he dances Romeo. Half of the cohort already resented Soonyoung because they think he does not deserve the lead role in his current state.

“He’s not even that good now. I bet seonsaengnim is just playing favourites because he used to be his star student. It must suck to see him fall to rock bottom like that, oof,” Soonyoung had overheard his classmates whisper when they think he’s not listening.

People haven’t been particularly subtle about their water cooler gossip and most criticisms aren’t sugar-coated especially when Hyunjin— the number one perpetrator of ruining Soonyoung’s life— constantly rubs it in Soonyoung’s face. So, Soonyoung _knows_ he has to work twice as hard as everyone else because of his disposition; he couldn’t fall behind his peers anymore. If he was a soloist, he had to perform like one.

Tonight is no different. Soonyoung had entered the studio at three in the afternoon and now it’s nearly two in the morning. The floor is slippery with the amount of sweat Soonyoung had shed from the vigorous exercises and strenuous repetition of his recital over and over again for 10 hours. The half-eaten sandwich that he had called dinner lay untouched on the floor beside his bag.

 _One more time and I’ll stop,_ Soonyoung tells himself for the umpteenth time as the music repeats. He was exhausted and his muscles protested in disagreement against another round. The quadruple pirouette was close to perfect, and he doesn’t stumble like he used to. He could also feel his movements becoming more flexible so he couldn’t just give up now. _One last time,_ Soonyoung promises.

The music is loud through the loudspeaker, and once again soonyoung’s body began moving on its own to the beats. From an assemble en tournant to two pas de chat. Everything was smooth until his grand jeté leap.

It was well-calculated, in Soonyoung’s mind. He has done it plenty of times, and this time would be the same. He would glide into a long horizontal jump and hit his fullest split at the height of the jump before landing on his foot.

Only, Soonyoung did not expect his landing to be painful. A hot knife cuts open his calf muscles as he lands on his right foot and his knee gives out abruptly. Soonyoung falls with a resounding slap of his palm on the studio floor.

“Ugh,” Soonyoung groans in pain. Soonyoung stays sprawled on the floor, afraid to move in case that sparked more pain. The pain resides after a good whole minute, and Soonyoung desperately hopes it’s just a pulled muscle. He should have known something like this would happen. It was self-defeating to over-exert himself, but when has he made sound logical decisions anyways?

Soonyoung moves slowly, both hands gripping the barre to pick himself up.

“You. are. An. Idiot!” A snarl at the door causes Soonyoung to flinch in surprise, almost losing his balance again.

“Wonwoo!” Soonyoung says, startled. Wonwoo stands at the door of the studio, arms-crossed over his chest, his face pulled into an angry scowl. He was in a peach trench coat, his hair was windswept and his face weathered.

“I knew you’d still be here! You don’t ever change, do you? You’re _always_ doing stupid, dumb things that hurt yourself. Always!” Wonwoo snaps, striding into the studio with his shoes still on until he’s next to Soonyoung. He wraps a steady hand on Soonyoung’s waist and helps him up. Soonyoung feels his cheek flame when his body presses close to Wonwoo. Wonwoo’s hold on him was firm, and he felt strong, like a sturdy pillar Soonyoung could lean onto.

“What- what are you doing here? It’s late.” Soonyoung stutters, as he gets up on his feet, hands holding onto Wonwoo’s arms.

“Exactly,” Wonwoo hisses, eyes narrowed at Soonyoung. “It’s _late._ It’s two in the morning. What are _you_ still doing here?”

“I was just leaving. I was gonna go after this last one.” Soonyoung tries to defend, voice dripping with guilt. Wonwoo sends him an unwavering glare and Soonyoung averts his gaze sheepishly. Now that Wonwoo was here, Soonyoung did feel a little stupid for staying so late.

Wonwoo lets him go once Soonyoung was steady on his feet. Soonyoung rubs his calves, pressing down on the taut muscles and runs two fingers over them, easing the pain.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asks, voice considerably gentler.

“Yeah, it’s just a pulled muscle,” Soonyoung reassures and beams up at Wonwoo. “Lucky, eh?”

Wonwoo scowls, but his eyes soften, and he lets out a small sigh. “You’re not going to fail just because you lose a few hours of practice, Soonie. I’ve seen you dance since I was fourteen. It’s in your blood. What you really need is to _rest._ Your leg may have healed, but if you strain yourself excessively, it can cause serious problems in the long term.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, mom.” snickered Soonyoung.

Wonwoo shoves Soonyoung in the shoulder, before sitting down next to Soonyoung. “I mean it. If you injure yourself horribly again, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

The look on Wonwoo’s face sends a hoard of butterflies attacking Soonyoung’s stomach. His eyes are soft and filled with concern; the cold professionalism is gone and instead it is the eyes of one who loves deeply.

Wonwoo was sitting too close, legs pressed to Soonyoung’s and the room temperature felt like it’s risen to a sweltering seventy-degree Celsius. Soonyoung’s ears are probably crimson at this point, but he doesn’t give a damn because Wonwoo was _so close_ and it felt _so right_ to be pressed against him. There was a weird tension between them as neither of them said a word. Wonwoo’s gaze drops to Soonyoung’s lips briefly, and Soonyoung licks them unconsciously.

 

_( “Ow, ow, ow!” Soonyoung whimpered, legs twitching at the stinging pain. “Be gentler!”_

_“I am being as gentle as I can, Soonie!” Wonwoo countered indignantly, blowing gentle puffs of air on Soonyoung’s wounds to soothe the pain. Wonwoo dabbed at the angry deep grazes on Soonyoung’s knee lightly with more antiseptic, and iodine solution. “I can’t believe you wore your canvas slippers outside when it’s raining and your soles are obviously not meant for slippery floors.”_

_“I just wanted some boba tea… didn’t know I’d slip,” Soonyoung scoffed petulantly, clearly embarrassed._

_“Well, these are going to have scars, you know,” Wonwoo mutters quietly, wrapping sterile dressings carefully around Soonyoung’s kneecaps._

_“Maybe if you kiss it, it’ll heal faster and it won’t scar,” said Soonyoung, grinning playfully at Wonwoo. He stretched his legs out expectantly at Wonwoo. Wonwoo sent Soonyoung the stink eye and pinched his calves instead, earning a surprised yelp from Soonyoung._

_“You’re so mean!” Soonyoung sulked, slipping back into new ballet tights._

_“You should be more careful and stop staying in the studio so late at night, I can’t always be here to kick your ass home.” Wonwoo cupped a hand on the back of Soonyoung’s neck and pulled him close. He plants his lips firmly on Soonyoung’s forehead, warm and wet._

_Soonyoung wiggled out of Wonwoo grasp, laughing and whacking Wonwoo._

_“Gross! Is that how you kiss your mom?” Soonyoung whined, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand._

_“You asked for it.” Wonwoo snickered, before stalking away to throw away the dirty bandages and bloodied napkins._

_Soonyoung pinched his ears to stem the slow red tint that was creeping up his neck, hoping Wonwoo wouldn’t notice how flustered his best friend gets when they get too close— )_

 

“Soonyoung?” Wonwoo waves a worried hand in front of Soonyoung’s face. “Soonyoung, you there? We should head home.”

He snaps out of it and quickly nods at Wonwoo. He unplugs his iPod and haphazardly throws his sketchbooks into his bag along with his half-eaten sandwich.

“Here,” Wonwoo drapes a coat around Soonyoung.

“It’s okay, I can just go like this,” Soonyoung panics, face turning beet red, and tries to hide his face by looking at the floor. 

“You want to walk home in a fucking leotard and skimpy tights while it’s snowing?”

“Wait, it’s snowing? But, it’s only November!” Soonyoung gapes, and he walks to the window, lifting the blinds slightly to peer out into the street.

Sure enough, light flecks of snow were falling from the sky, like small cotton balls and the streets were already lined with white. Soonyoung looks at Wonwoo sheepishly.

“If you wanna walk home with your dick shrunk like a raisin, be my guest.”  

“No! Give me!” Soonyoung lunges at the coat in Wonwoo’s hands with grabby hands.

“You’re such a big baby,” Wonwoo complains, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice and Soonyoung knows he was holding back a smile.

Soonyoung doesn’t know how long it’s been since he last walked with Wonwoo like this, and frankly speaking, he can’t remember. But as he strolled in step next to Wonwoo, with his face huddled into the collar of Wonwoo’s coat, he couldn’t help but feel at home, like he should be doing this all the time with Wonwoo and there’s no one else he would rather be.

This feeling was strange because amnesiac Soonyoung just met Wonwoo three weeks ago, and Wonwoo, technically, is still a stranger to him. Yet, at this very moment, walking next to wonwoo and arguing about whether Slytherin is the best house or if pizzas should have pineapples on them, the unfamiliar pieces begin to fall together. It doesn’t matter if this world didn’t belong to him, Wonwoo is beside him, his sole anchor to this ever-confusing foreign place and that’s all that matters right now.

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

Sometimes, it was confusing who Wonwoo is to Soonyoung before his injury. From the memories, Soonyoung had recovered so far (which is meagre), Soonyoung was able to deduce that Wonwoo was one of his best friends and perhaps, maybe, possibly, his friend with benefits. But, it becomes startlingly weird when people started coming up to him to ask where Wonwoo was like Soonyoung would magically know and has omniscient eyesight.

“Could you pass the message to Wonwoo that he has a track meet at 8 pm tomorrow? Thanks.” and “Wonwoo dropped this yesterday during lab work. Could you return it to him?” were the most common ones of them all. This happens almost on a daily basis now.

“I don’t know,” is usually Soonyoung’s answer, and the shocked looks he’s returned with is an even bigger mystery. Why do people expect him to have Wonwoo’s schedule memorised like he was his personal secretary or something?

Soonyoung is playing Hearthstone on his phone against Chan when Eunha comes up to him, tapping him sharply on his shoulder and asks, “Hi Soonyoung-ssi, is Wonwoo-oppa free tonight for study group?”

“Probably not, he has astronomy club activities on Tuesday nights,” Soonyoung says the first thing on his mind absently, not looking up from his phone and tapping away furiously.

“Aw man, do you know which days he’ll be free to commit? He hasn’t been active in his TA activities.” Eunha sounds like she’s pouting.

“Uh, probably Thursdays? He only has, like, one class that day. Lucky asshole.”

“Whew, alright, thanks, oppa!” Eunha skips off.

It wasn’t until Soonyoung had completely obliterated Chan in the game when he realises that Chan hasn’t even moved. Soonyoung looks up to find the entire table staring at him like he just grew an extra head.

“What’s wrong?” Soonyoung asks, rubbing his face self-consciously.  

“Did Wonwoo tell you his schedule?” Seokmin asks slowly.

Oh. _Oh, right_.

“No,” Soonyoung says. “But, I wasn’t paying attention when I said it, it just came out of my mouth. I guess it was always somewhere in the back of my mind.”

“That’s good news, though!” Seungkwan exclaims and claps like a seal, dramatically shaking Soonyoung’s hands and patting him on the back like he’s just won a lottery. “See, hyung, your memories are coming back soon!"

“Can’t wait to see your face when you remember all the idiotic things you’ve done,” Jihoon says snugly. “Ignorance is bliss, I tell you. Revel in it while it lasts.”

The rest of lunch passes by in its usual boisterous chatter and rowdiness. Soonyoung decides to go back to his apartment to take a quick nap before he hit the studio to practice when he finds Wonwoo standing outside his apartment door, pacing.

“Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo turns at the sound of his name. “Soonyoung. Is Chan with you? I was looking for him.”

“No, he went to Kmart to buy some eggs and milk with Seungkwan and Hansol,” Soonyoung replies, giving Wonwoo a significant look. Wonwoo seemed nervous, almost skittish.  

“Oh,” was his only reply, and Wonwoo looked at the stairs as if debating whether he should leave or wait for Chan. Whatever he had to tell Chan, it seemed important and Wonwoo looked like a lost puppy as he adjusted his glasses tentatively.

Soonyoung unlocks his apartment door and gestures as nonchalantly as he could, “Do you want to come in and wait for Chan? He won’t take long.”

“Okay,”

Soonyoung steps inside and leaves the door open. Wonwoo kicks off his shoes and leaves it by the shoe rack, closing the door behind him. Wonwoo hangs his cloak on the coat rack swiftly and sits down on the sofa

He moves with such certainty Soonyoung could only assume Wonwoo’s been in Soonyoung’s apartment before. Soonyoung doesn’t know if Wonwoo likes coffee or tea or how he likes them to be so he boils water for both cups.

Wonwoo was digging through the DVD rack when Soonyoung brings both coffee and tea out onto the coffee table in the living room.

“Wow, you didn’t throw this away?” Wonwoo beams, turning towards soonyoung and holding up a copy of _Ferris Bueller’s Day Off._ Soonyoung doesn’t recognise the DVD.

“I didn’t even know those were mine. I thought it was Chan’s”

“Naw, Chan wouldn’t like these stuff. Plus, I gave them to you.” Wonwoo smiles nostalgically. “You  liked coming-of-age films; the more teen angst the better.”

That certainly sounds like what Soonyoung would say.

“James Dean,” Wonwoo says absently, pulling out another DVD case. His face lit up delightedly as a child would when they find candy in the cookie jar.

“What?”

“He was your personal hero. You ditched Kibum for him.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Liar!” Soonyoung gasps, shrinking away in betrayal. “I would never give up on Kibum for some greasy white dude.”

“Say that again after you’ve watched Rebel Without A Cause,” Wonwoo says fondly, opening a DVD case and slipping the CD into the television player. “You were so smitten by James Dean, you put him next to your poster of Kibum because you couldn’t decide on whose ass to worship more.”

“I have no such memory. It never happened. I would never do Shinee dirty like this.” Soonyoung insists with a child-like stubbornness. How dare this man come into his house and declare that his love for Shinee was not exclusive!

“C’mere, sit down! We can watch this again,” Wonwoo says, patting the space on the sofa, stretching his legs out and getting comfortable. Soonyoung stares at him, bewildered.

“Seriously?”

“Do I look like I’m going anywhere to you? Come on, I know you don’t have any classes after this and you’re just going to drag your ass to practice. It won’t hurt to watch just one movie.” Wonwoo grins at him, eyes bright, whatever worries that plagued him just now was long gone. Soonyoung relents and settles down next to him on the couch.

“Won’t you get bored from watching these again?” Soonyoung quirks an eyebrow at Wonwoo’s excitement.

 

_( “No, these were my childhood gems. I wouldn’t get tired of them even if I tried. There’s always new easter eggs to be discovered when I watch it again.” Wonwoo had said, laying his head on Soonyoung’s lap. )_

 

“Not when I’m watching it with you. plus, you always talk when you watch movies so it’s entertaining.” Wonwoo answers honestly.

 

 _( “I can’t believe you have never watched Titanic before,” Wonwoo shook his head in disbelief as he watched Soonyoung sob into his fifth packet of tissue._  

_“I wish I never did.” Soonyoung bawled as tears streamed down his face. His eyes were so puffy he could barely see._

_“How does it feel to finally be cultured?” Wonwoo sniggered, staring up at Soonyoung with his chin in his hand._

_“Like I’m drowning.” Soonyoung sniffs loudly before crying again. “Jack didn’t deserve this ending.”_

_Wonwoo watched Soonyoung amusedly._

_“Stop staring at me, it’s weird.” Soonyoung hiccups, and pushes Wonwoo away weakly._

_“You look pretty when you cry,” said Wonwoo with so much suave Soonyoung’s ears reddened deeply._

_“That’s gay, dude.” Soonyoung tried to mask his embarrassment, turning away from Wonwoo to hide his face. )_

 

Three hours later, Soonyoung declares Rebel Without a Cause as his favourite movie ever, and that James Dean is his personal hero.

“See, I told you. I told you, you would love Jim Stark.”

“I’m going to get myself a 49’ Mercury Eight and challenge Hyunjin to a drag race, and then beat his ass!” Soonyoung yells. Soonyoung vaguely remembers seeing a red leather jacket in his closet and runs into his room. 

Soonyoung walks out of his room in a red leather jacket, an oversized white top, jeans two sizes too small and actual combat boots.

“Hwang Hyunjin, ya punk, let’s have a chickie run. You and me, pal! We’ll have us some kicks tonight, the roundabout at eight o’clock.” Soonyoung recites in the best southern accent he could manage, stamping one boot onto the chair, his hands on his hips and his face scrunched up into a contemptuous expression. Wonwoo dissolves into a fit of laughter, clutching his sides.

“Whatchya laughin’ at, Judy?” Soonyoung marches towards Wonwoo, whose on the floor gasping for breath. Unable to hold back any longer, Soonyoung joins him too, and they both slump on the couch panting from laughter. His heart has never felt so full of warmth and happiness since he was released from the hospital.

“You were actually rather good. I’ve never seen a better cosplay.” Wonwoo says, in between giggles. Wonwoo’s lays his head on Soonyoung’s lap and Soonyoung stops laughing to stare. This is the first time he’s seen Wonwoo laugh this hard, Soonyoung notes.

“You scrunch your nose when you laugh,” Soonyoung blurts without thinking. He slaps a hand to his own mouth in horror.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo hums, looking up at Soonyoung from his lap unbothered by his outburst. He crinkles his nose deliberately so that the bridge of his nose wrinkles. “Girls dig that, apparently."

“I’d dig it too,” Soonyoung says, once again without thinking. He curses his brain-to-mouth filter.  “If- If I were a girl, I mean.” Soonyoung quickly adds.

Before Wonwoo could say anything (probably tell Soonyoung he’s weird), the front door opens and Chan walks in, stopping abruptly when he spots the both of them.

“Am I interrupting something?” Chan eyes them warily and giving Soonyoung a significant look.

Soonyoung shakes his head, and Wonwoo sits up hastily. A rush of awkwardness fills the air once again, and Soonyoung’s suddenly feels cold.

“I was looking for you,” Wonwoo stands, picking up his bag and rummaging through it. He produces a letter and hands it to Chan.

“Here, it’s from… uh, a friend.” Chan takes it and gives Wonwoo a nod. Wonwoo gives Soonyoung a half-hearted smile before heading towards the front door, taking his cloak with him.

“See you around, Soonyoung.” and Wonwoo was gone.

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

It’s easier to talk to Wonwoo nowadays. Five whole weeks and Soonyoung has learnt not to freak out whenever Wonwoo shows concern for him or stands too close. They’re not really friends, but they’re not acquaintances either. It’s hard for Soonyoung to define what their relationship really is.

“Friends without benefits.” Mingyu had helpfully coined the term.

“Wouldn’t that just be ‘friends’? We’re just friends,”

“No, friends without benefits would mean you guys are more than friends, but not yet lovers, but also not having sex,” Mingyu explained like it’s the most obvious thing under the sun. “It’s like being cockblocked twenty-four seven.”

So according to Mingyu, Soonyoung and Wonwoo are friends without benefits.

Either way, term or no term, Soonyoung knows there is a line between them which delineates a no-go zone. Whenever Soonyoung crosses this invisible line, Wonwoo would close up abruptly, withdrawing back behind his impregnable wall. The worse part is, Soonyoung doesn’t know where this line is drawn.

This happens twice. The first was when Soonyoung started innocently caressing Wonwoo’s hair. Soonyoung swore it was just a chaste sinless touch with no innuendos whatsoever, and it’s not exactly Soonyoung’s fault for _wanting_ to run his hand through Wonwoo’s hair when it looks like _that_.

Wonwoo walks to their usual table with the messiest bed hair possible— a jungle of untamable locks stick out in odd places, and strands of dark curls lazily ruffled. Soonyoung resists the urge to run his fingers through the curly locks as wonwoo takes the seat directly across him.

“Did he get laid last night?” Seokmin said pointedly, eyeing Wonwoo’s hair suspiciously and speaking in third-person as if Wonwoo wasn’t just across the table.

“Naw, It just looks like he’s been wrestling with his pillow last night and lost miserably.” Jihoon snorts, glancing up at Wonwoo before turning back to scribbling his compositions. Soonyoung laughs a little too loudly causing Wonwoo to glare darkly at him.

“I’m sitting right here, guys,” Wonwoo grumbles loudly, kicking Soonyoung under the table when he still wouldn’t stop laughing.

“That’s the unsexiest bed hair I’ve ever seen.” Mingyu pipes when he and Minghao arrived shortly for brunch.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Minghao frowns, throwing a disapproving look at Mingyu. “Especially since your hair looks like three birds burrowed nests and started a big family in the morning.”

“That’s hardly my fault! You like to pull at them so much during s-”

“Okay!” Seokmin yells quickly, voice unusually high-pitched. Seokmin wasn’t fond of explicit content. It’s easier to live without lewd images of his best friends embossed in his mind forever. 

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Soonyoung pipes, scooting forward towards Wonwoo. From there, Soonyoung’s hands move on its own, carding through Wonwoo’s unforgivable cowlicks, flattening them on his head. Wonwoo doesn’t protest or shrug away from Soonyoung’s touch. He studies Soonyoung quietly, eyes appraising. He lets Soonyoung stroke the tousled strands behind his ears with a keen fascination.

“Your hair’s so soft,” Soonyoung marvels at the lightness. “What the hell do you put on to make it like this?”

“I use the same shampoo as you, you know.” Wonwoo chuckles softly.

“Bullshit, my shampoo makes my hair dry as hell. It has nothing on this.” Soonyoung combs Wonwoo’s hair a last time, making the ruly locks fall around Wonwoo’s brows.

Suddenly, Soonyoung’s mouth moves on its own, forming a familiar name.  “Jeon Curly.”

Wonwoo tenses and the entire table seemed to stop and look at Soonyoung. The ominous sensation hanging in the air is palpable.

 

_( Watching Wonwoo rouse from his slumber was always an enthralling feat. Soonyoung would watch his eyes slowly flicker open and blink sleepily. He would look up at Soonyoung looking through long eyelashes and smile lazily._

_“Were you just watching me this whole time, you creep?” Wonwoo says voice husky and still heavy with sleep. Wonwoo smirks up at soonyoung when he blushes deep._

_“What else I am I supposed to watch? You’re on my bed in ass o’clock in the morning and I think I just missed my morning jog.” Soonyoung says defensively, trying to act nonchalant about waking up next to Wonwoo and his god damn handsome face._

_Wonwoo scrunches his nose in distaste. “Oh god, you’re an early riser.”_

_“Yeah, and that entails being stuck watching you so there,"_

_“You’re lucky that I’m in your bed and not Seungkwan or Mingyu. They snore and they kick.”_

_“Right,” Soonyoung deadpans, shifting under the sheets so that he’s facing Wonwoo. “and I’m graced with your sarcasm and disdain the moment I wake up.”_

_“That and my good-looking face.”_

_Soonyoung can’t really deny that his face was quite aesthetically pleasing and well arranged so he settles for the next best insult,“Your hair looks like shit in the morning.”_

_“Liar, you love it. You always touch my hair when you think I’m asleep.” Wonwoo simpers in an irritatingly smug way. That had Soonyoung sputtering, caught red-handed._

_“Why didn’t you stop me? I thought you were just a heavy sleeper.” Soonyoung hides his face under the warm covers as Wonwoo laughs and pulls the covers off of Soonyoung. They wrestle for the blanket until Wonwoo gains the upper hand and holds them out of reach. He stares at Soonyoung intently, and Soonyoung glares back._

_“I liked it,” Wonwoo replies genuinely, voice intensely fond. Soonyoung shivers, and it’s not because of the cold._

_“You weirdo,” Soonyoung whispers, as his hands reach up to tousle Wonwoo’s unkempt hair, earning a satisfied purr. Soonyoung grabs a comb from his nightstand and sits up cross-legged, pulling Wonwoo’s head onto his lap and starts untangling the knots in his hair._

_“This feels like I’m brushing a cat,” Soonyoung eventually says amusingly, hands twirling at the strands of hair on Wonwoo’s head. “If you were a cat, you’d be the laziest, smuggest, and the most asshole-y cat ever.”_

_Wonwoo snorts. “I’m not a cat, I’m a desert fox.”_

_“You do know foxes are dogs right,” Soonyoung snickers, looking down at Wonwoo on his lap._

_“They are not,”_

_“They are! They’re technically canines, they belong to the same family as canines.”_

_“Since when did you become an expert zoologist?”_

_“Since Chan subscribed to National Geographic and I picked up one about foxes because that reminded me of you,” Soonyoung says easily._

_“If you had a cat, what would you name it?” Wonwoo asks pensively after a moment’s silence._

_Soonyoung pauses thoughtfully. Jihoon? Hoshi? Hoshi sounds cute. Then, the perfect moniker hits him, and Soonyoung could help but laugh out loud. Wonwoo peers up at him curiously, knowing something’s up._

_“Jeon Curly.” Soonyoung wheezes, chortling at his own joke when Wonwoo throws a pillow at him and rises out of bed._

_“Seriously? Another one? Haven’t you got bored of Jeon Wonwoo Bag of Luck yet?”_

_“Not my fault your name is so easy to make puns out of.” Soonyoung sing-songs, reminding himself to name all his plushies Jeon Curly from now on. )_

 

The moment ‘Jeon Curly,’ comes out of Soonyoung’s mouth, Wonwoo stiffens and Soonyoung knew he had said something wrong. He’d crossed the line. Wonwoo flinches at Soonyoung’s touch and angles his body away. Soonyoung jerks his hands off of Wonwoo, pulling away like he’s touched something boiling. 

“Wonwoo, I didn’t mean to-” Soonyoung starts but Wonwoo shakes his head, his expression hard. The conversation is over, Wonwoo makes that clear, jaw wired shut. Soonyoung’s hands curls into a tight fist on his thigh. Fuck, he should have just kept his hands to himself, then maybe Wonwoo wouldn’t be so weirded out by Soonyoung.

 

The second time Wonwoo turned away from Soonyoung was when Soonyoung (accidentally) stalked Wonwoo’s Instagram and found several polaroids taken together.

“What’s this?” Soonyoung had asked Wonwoo, shoving his phone in Wonwoo’s face. It was a picture they took a year ago in the winter.

“What’s what?”

“This.” Soonyoung scrolls down Wonwoo’s feed, revealing more rows of pictures of just the two of them, and occasionally, just of Soonyoung himself.

“That is Instagram.” Wonwoo deadpans.

“You know what I’m asking, Wonwoo.” Soonyoung frowns. “We were good friends, the bestest. Why did we stop? Why were you avoiding me?”

“I didn’t avoid you! You avoided me!”

“Why? Tell me what happened.”  

“Nothing happened. There is nothing to talk about.” There it is, Soonyoung’s throttled straight into the wall.

“What do you mean _there’s nothing to talk about_? There’s plenty! We can start off with why you have my schedule memorised, then why do I have your parka in my closet, why we have photos of just the two of us and why we have matching clothes that I clearly did not buy.”

“That was months ago, Soonyoung. Things happened since then, and it’s just different now.”

“Different? Like I can’t talk to my best friend from ninth grade sort of different?” Soonyoung asked angrily. “What could have been so insurmountable that we would give up on our friendship for nine years?”

“It’s easy for you to say, isn’t it? What do you know of our ‘friendship for nine years’? What do you remember of those nine years, huh? What did we do in eleventh grade during summer break? When was our first ever concert? Who was your first girlfriend? Where was our favourite hiding spot in high school?” Wonwoo countered scathingly, eyes flaring. “I thought so,”

“Fine, you’re right, I don’t know much about us,” Soonyoung admits, “But you could explain to me. You could tell me, remind me so I can remember.”

“When you do remember, you’ll gladly throw those nine years away all over again.” Wonwoo laughs, it sounds mean and bitter.

“You don’t know that.” Soonyoung insists, shoving his hands in the air. “You can’t just shut me out like this, Wonwoo! Your memories are mine too, you know.”

“Oh, I wasn’t the one who shut you out.” Wonwoo jabs an accusing finger at Soonyoung, voice rising. “I was ready to give you everything. But you don’t know that, do you? How fucking blissful is that? While you can happily live your life free of the burden from the past, I’m still shackled by the mess you left!”

“What do you mean ‘the mess I left’? Wonwoo, what did I do?” Soonyoung yields, voice pleading. “Please, I can fix this, wonwoo.”  

Wonwoo shakes his head and says in finality, “You can’t, it’s not something that can be fixed. You’ll get it when you recover your memories back.” Soonyoung watches Wonwoo spin on his heels, and duck into the library, effectively sealing any further conversation on this matter.  

There it goes again, the classic “once your memories come back” trump card everyone’s been using on him everytime he asks about Wonwoo. Soonyoung’s not dealing with that anymore, and he knows that’s going to take months or even years for his brain to start remembering everything. By then, they would all have graduated. Soonyoung wants answers now because it hurts.

It seems stupid for Soonyoung to even care about remembering Wonwoo. They were technically strangers, and it would hurt less to just forget about the past, and let his memories slowly resurface. Still, the way Wonwoo looked at him like Soonyoung held the entire world and the way Wonwoo laughed so recklessly and happily in his memories made Soonyoung long for this relationship again. Somewhere deep down in his heart, he's desperate to hold on to Wonwoo, because Wonwoo belonged to him, because Wonwoo has always been by his side, and because Wonwoo cared for him the way no one else does.  

So watching Wonwoo walk away like he wants nothing to do with Soonyoung made his heart sink and his lungs constrict. Soonyoung had to fix this.

 

Soonyoung corners Seungkwan after lunch, dragging him into an empty lecture theatre. Soonyoung knows Seungkwan had a soft spot for him, so eliciting some information out of Seungkwan would be easier than confronting Chan or Minghao. 

“Wonwoo avoided me a month before the accident. Why?” Soonyoung cuts straight to the chase, looking directly at Seungkwan who was fidgeting like a skittish animal.

“It’s not really my place to say this, hyung.” Seungkwan tries to placate Soonyoung, but Soonyoung is having none of that. He growls.

“Don’t you think I deserve to know what I did? They’re important memories I lost, it’s not fair to withhold what originally belongs to me, is it?” Soonyoung grits out. After months of being kept in the dark, not knowing a single thing about who Wonwoo really was to him, he’s had enough. He knows he’s being too hard on Seungkwan and it’s not his fault that no one really wants to talk about Wonwoo because they want to protect Soonyoung’s feelings. But, Soonyoung doesn’t need protection, what he needs is answers and a solution to understand Wonwoo, to go back to the way they were before, to see him smile as he did in the pictures again.

“Come on, Seungkwan. You know I wouldn’t ask you if this wasn’t important.” Soonyoung prodded, giving him one last push.

Seungkwan averts his gaze to the floor, clearly on the verge of spilling. He bites his lips guiltily before finally admitting. “You two had a big fight before your injury. It was pretty bad, and both of you were really hurt.”

So, they fought, that much is clear to Soonyoung. But, over what? 

“Arguments could be fixed, and misunderstanding could be cleared up. So, Why doesn’t he want to talk about it? We could just sit down and talk about whatever it was! It’s no big deal.” Soonyoung presses on impatiently.

“It’s more complicated than that, Soonyoung. You two had a- a thing.”  

“You mean, we were a couple?”

“Sort of?” Seungkwan tries to dodge the topic, but Soonyoung doesn't let Seungkwan off easy.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” He says mulishly and Seungkwan lets out a heavy sigh.

“You guys weren’t officially a couple, but you two were really close. He asked you out and you ghosted him.” Seungkwan croaks out like it physically hurts him to say it. “You said you weren’t gay and you walked out.”

“Oh my god,” Soonyoung whispers mostly to himself. He was an idiot, he was really an idiot.

Wonwoo was in love with him. He was  _in love_. And Soonyoung had hurt him. He had hurt him so bad that Wonwoo had stopped hanging out with him after nine years of friendship. He had left Wonwoo to bleed out old wounds.

 

 _( Soonyoung backed away from Wonwoo. The fear and disgust heavy in his eyes. Wonwoo couldn’t even look at Soonyoung in the eye._  

 _“I thought—I thought all that holding hands bullshit and kissing were just friendly gestures! I didn’t think you’d take it for real.” Soonyoung said, his head spun in confusion. His best friend had just confessed to him. His best friend_ _loves_ _him. Soonyoung doesn’t even know how he feels about that. Does he love Wonwoo back? How could he? Wonwoo’s his best friend, not his lover._

_“You think kissing is a friendly gesture? You think asking you to a family dinner was just a friendly thing? You think making out on the couch is what friends would do?” Wonwoo asked rapidly, voice strained and expression pained._

_“I don’t know, Wonwoo.” Soonyoung croaked, mind cogs still whirring over Wonwoo’s confession. Soonyoung hadn’t really thought about the kissing or the making out as anything significant. They just seemed normal to him, like a common thing he and Wonwoo should be doing._

_“What about the night at Jeonghan’s party? The night we had our first time?”_

_Soonyoung flinched at the mention of it. He_ _flinched_ _and it sent Wonwoo’s heart crumbling to pieces. “Fuck that! We were drunk!” Soonyoung landed the final blow._

_It was a blatant lie. Soonyoung wasn’t drunk. Soonyoung was perfectly sober that night because he was the designated driver after drawing straws with Seokmin and Seungkwan. Wonwoo had asked Soonyoung to do it with him, and Soonyoung did because Soonyoung wanted Wonwoo to feel good. Wonwoo deserved to feel good. But, it never occurred to him it would become like this._

_“You think that was for fun?” Wonwoo half-whispered looking at Soonyoung in betrayal and grief. His shoulders slumped. “What about how I feel? I didn’t do it just because I was horny.”_

_“Then, that’s your problem isn’t it?” Soonyoung said, ignoring the sharp pain in his pounding heart and the crestfallen look on Wonwoo’s face. “I—no, I just, I can’t be your boyfriend, Wonwoo. I’m not gay.” Soonyoung whispered the word like it’s an insult._

_Soonyoung turns on his heels, grabbing his bag anxiously. His feelings a big messy jumble, and his brain unable to keep up with how fast everything changed. Wonwoo can’t be Soonyoung’s lover— Soonyoung would lose him. Lovers don’t last. Soonyoung doesn’t want to lose him._

_“Soonyoung—” Wonwoo began but Soonyoung shook his head vehemently._

_“I think I need some time to think this through.” was all soonyoung managed to choke out before leaving Wonwoo’s apartment, door slamming close behind him. )_

 

Soonyoung covers his face with his hands as the wisps of memories dawns on him. “I’m such an ass! Why did I do that? Why did I say that? Oh god, _oh god._ ”

Soonyoung could imagine how broken Wonwoo must have felt. Soonyoung had been confused, and he had been afraid. He was afraid of losing Wonwoo because Soonyoung had never dated a man before and because of his own internalised homophobia. Still, it did not warrant hurting wonwoo like this.

“Hyung, it’s not your-”

“It was my fault,” Soonyoung says miserably, voice muffled by his hands. “I hurt him. I technically told him to fuck off and to stay away from me.”

Seungkwan pats Soonyoung awkwardly on his back in an attempt to comfort him but doesn’t say anything else. This would explain why Wonwoo was so broken to see Soonyoung in the hospital, and why he couldn’t get himself to touch Soonyoung and why there was always this air of awkward tension between them that Soonyoung couldn’t put a finger on.

“What happened after… I left him?” Soonyoung asks. He’s not entirely sure if he wants to hear the answer. 

“Two of you didn’t talk for an entire month and everyone was worried that the group would split up because of irreconcilable relations between you and Wonwoo. We were bound to choose sides when a big fight like this happens,”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Soonyoung echoes, and pinches his cheek punishingly.

“I have to apologise. I have to tell him how I felt, and how wrong I was, and that it was never his fault. I have to make it right.” Soonyoung vows out loud, before grabbing Seungkwan’s pink and intertwined it with his.

Seungkwan nods. “You should do it in private, and somewhere quiet where Wonwoo-hyung can’t run from.”

“Okay,” Soonyoung trails off weakly. Seungkwan rubs his back comfortingly.

On their way back to the lunch table, Soonyoung asks something that’s been bothering him for a long time, “Seungkwan? Was Wonwoo the cause of my accident?”

Seungkwan looks at him sadly. “No, but he blames himself for it.”

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

With the annual show looming in just a week, Soonyoung puts everything else that wasn’t related to dance on hold, and that includes his promise to apologise and to talk to Wonwoo.

On his first full-dress rehearsal, Soonyoung suffers a panic attack. It was a gradual build-up, from the little things like the stress of perfecting his moves, to the bigger anxieties such as the pressure of being a centre stage soloist.

The Murphy’s Law starts when he misses his alarm clock in the morning of his first rehearsal. He had told himself he would wake up five minutes after he presses snooze, instead he sleeps for another hour and wakes up to Chan screaming at him on the phone for being late to rehearsal.

In his hurry, he skips breakfast. Also in his hurry, he forgets to pack his canvas slippers and he had to run to Minghao’s lecture hall to borrow Minghao’s tiny-ass shoes that were one size too small. In the haze, he gets to rehearsal two hours late.

Minghao’s shoes were too small for him. The seams of the slippers dug painfully into Soonyoung’s foot and the soles kept slipping out of place. He stumbles a few times because of that and had to bite back his pain when his toe decides to split open on a bad landing. The instructor had not been entertained, in fact, he was furious. Soonyoung had started out on the wrong foot and now he’s screwing up the entire sequence.

As if being berated in front of the entire hall wasn’t humiliating enough, his classmates had sent him death glares throughout the entire rehearsal everytime they had to stop because of Soonyoung’s minor imperfections.

“Hey, scatterbrain, get your shit together, will you? I want to go home here.” Hyunjin hissed at Soonyoung, and the class murmured in agreement.

When they were finally released for the day at six in the evening, Soonyoung was called out by the instructor.

“Soonyoung, what happened?” His instructor asked, rubbing his temples irritably. “You were doing so well during lessons. Why today?”

“Songsaenim, I’m deeply sorry. I have no excuse for being late and forgetting to bring my shoes. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Soonyoung bowed. “I will practice harder and-”

“Is this goddamn performance not important to you?” his instructor cuts him off with a bellow. “Do you think rehearsals are a joke, Kwon Soonyoung?”

“No, sir,” Soonyoung says.

“This,” The instructor gives a vague sweeping gesture of Soonyoung’s figure. “This will not happen again, or you’re off this solo position.”

“I understand, sir.” Soonyoung keeps his voice level, and wills himself not to spill the tears that were threatening to fall until his instructor strides out of the performance theatre. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Seconds later, he hears slow clapping from the audience seats and he looks up to see Hyunjin, Changbin and Woojin standing by the stage, looking as if they had enjoyed what had happened.

“You were so horrible today, I don’t think anybody would show up for the show now.” Hyunjin walks up the stage and jabs a finger into Soonyoung’s chest. “One more mistake, Kwon, and the stage would be mine. Tread carefully, scatterbrain.”

Hyunjin pats Soonyoung patronizingly on the shoulders before shoving past him and walking out of the theatre followed by Woojin.

Changbin was the last to go, “Don’t cry too much, Kwon.” He laughs and mimicked horrible sobbing noises before slamming the theatre doors shut with a loud thud.

Soonyoung doesn’t know how long he stood on stage motionless and numb, but when he finally moved, his joints felt stiff and sore.

His toes had bled through Minghao’s shoes, leaving a dark red patch on the tips of his slippers. Soonyoung doesn’t stop walking until he reaches the bathroom in the main building of the campus.

Soonyoung looks at himself in the mirror, pinching his cheeks, rubbing his eyes. He feels tangible and grounded to reality, not a ghost or an image. When things become peachy, Soonyoung often asks himself, _What would the old Soonyoung do?_ Old Soonyoung would be strong, he would stand on two strong feet and confidently surmount challenges with great fortitude. Old Soonyoung would be courageous, standing up against Hyunjin and his friends. Old Soonyoung would be impeccable and flawless…

Yet, this soonyoung, that stands in front of the mirror looking at himself, felt so small, so inadequate and so _weak_ , despite working his ass off day and night. He had pushed himself to be the best he could, so he wouldn’t disappoint anyone, so he could meet the expectations of being the _old_ Soonyoung, so he could finally feel like he belonged to this hazy world that he was abruptly thrown in.

The more he looks at himself in the mirror, the more he feels like an imitation of the original Soonyoung. Because that’s just what everyone sees him as— a second-grade low-budget copy of the _old_ Soonyoung. The shadow of who he used to be consistently reminding him that he’ll never be good enough because an imitation will _never_ be the original. And that fucking hurts. It hurts so much.

Soonyoung’s knees go weak as he sinks down to the floor, not bothering to enter the toilet stall to hide because he’s too consumed in his desolace to move. The tears don’t stop and his breaths begin to accelerate into gasps. The floor spins, and Soonyoung could feel his anxiety and fear pouring out unchecked by his brain, in some kind of a mental free-fall as he sinks deeper and deeper into a cold, cold darkness.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

_(“Have you ever tried dancing?” Soonyoung brought up first, pushing himself off the floor where he had sat scribbling dance notations while researching the History of Modern Ballet and padded over to Wonwoo on the couch. Wonwoo looks up from his book to peer curiously at Soonyoung._

_“No, why?” Wonwoo asked, adjusting his glasses that had slid low on his nose._

_“I was thinking, maybe, we could learn a waltz together,” Soonyoung suggested coyly._

_That made Wonwoo laugh in surprise. “You can’t be serious. You know I can’t dance.”_

_“Lies, I’ve seen you bop at parties. Plus, the waltz is easy.” Soonyoung pleaded, voice beseeching as he gave Wonwoo his best puppy-dog eyes until Wonwoo relented. Soonyoung pumped his fist in the air in victory, taking Wonwoo’s hands and him dragging off the couch. Soonyoung plugs his phone to the loudspeaker._

_Wonwoo rolled his eyes, as the familiar tune filled the living room. “We’re dancing to Shostakovich Waltz No. 2?”_

_“Yeah, it’s a classic and it’s romantic too,” Soonyoung siddled into Wonwoo’s space, “You should lead, you’re much taller than me.”_

_Wonwoo decided to imitate a posh French man as he held out his left hand elegantly at Soonyoung. “May I have this dance with you, Mademoiselle?”_

_“Oui,” Soonyoung played along, suppressing a giggle when Wonwoo kisses the back of his hand sloppily. They got into position and Soonyoung wrapped his right hand on Wonwoo’s._

_“Your right hand should be on my waist,” Soonyoung whispered, as Soonyoung places a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder. A warm hand draped above Soonyoung’s hip, and soonyoung tries not to shiver._

_Slowly, they moved to the beat, one step back and one step forward in unison. Soonyoung’s body was pressed close to Wonwoo’s and he could feel Wonwoo breathing on the crown of his head. Wonwoo smelled like dry wood in the summer and sapid vanilla. He had to resist the urge to nuzzle Wonwoo’s neck like a dog._

_One song blends seamlessly into another, and they swayed to each beat, barefoot in the living room. They stayed like that for a good ten minutes until the music ended and the sun was low on the horizon, casting its soft tangerine glow into the apartment._

_“See, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Soonyoung murmurs with his eyes closed and his head pressed against Wonwoo’s shoulders._

_Wonwoo hummed in agreement, nose burrowed in Soonyoung’s hair._

_“I thought it felt peaceful and floating on thin air, kind of like the planetarium scene in La La Land, don’t you think?” Soonyoung continued._

_“Yeah,” Wonwoo murmurs once again in consent._

_Soonyoung leaned back a little to look at him. He slid a hand down to the swell of Wonwoo’s butt and gives it an experimental squeeze. That made Wonwoo jump out of his daze, and pull away, cheeks flaming._

_“Did you just grope my ass?” Wonwoo sputtered, slapping at Soonyoung’s hands._

_“No, I was just checking if you were listening to me or just humming noncommittally.” Soonyoung snickered and dodges out of range when Wonwoo aims another shove at him._

_“I was enjoying a moment before you ruined it indecently!” Wonwoo protested.)_

 

“...Soonyoung,” Wonwoo is on his knees, hovering over Soonyoung, eyes stricken with worry.

“Wonwoo?” Soonyoung rasped, his head pounding like someone just dropped a flour sack on it. He was vaguely aware of lying on the cold bathroom floor. 

It takes over a few seconds before the weight of everything crashes over him again, and Soonyoung tries to fight off the panic that resurfaced. When Wonwoo wraps his arms around him, Soonyoung almost sobs in relief. He felt safer in Wonwoo's arms like he should be. The scent of crisp pine and vanilla steadies Soonyoung, and the tension rife in his body slowly subsides as his breaths even.

“I was so scared, I screwed up, I fucked up so bad,” Soonyoung whispers, hands clutching onto Wonwoo’s clothes like it’s a lifeline. “They hate me so much, Wonwoo.”

“It’s not your fault, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says soothingly. “People always hate those who are better than them. They want to see them fall, and they want to see them at their lowest point so they can feel better about themselves. You’re leagues above them, Soonyoung, and their petty selves just can’t stand that 

“I didn’t ask for this,” Soonyoung feels a lump rising in his throat. Wonwoo doesn’t blame him, Wonwoo understands. An odd sense of affinity and acceptance brings tears to Soonyoung’s eyes again.  

“No, you didn’t.” Wonwoo agrees. “But you’ll get through this and they’ll look up at you as you stand shining on the stage, knowing you didn’t ask for it but you took it in stride anyway and you flourished. You’ll have roses thrown at you, and you’ll look down at them and smile.”

The floodgates wrenched open as Soonyoung wept into Wonwoo’s shoulder, staining his good coat. Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind at all. Instead, he stays with his arms tightly draped around Soonyoung, rubbing a comforting hand up and down the length of Soonyoung’s back.

After several moments, Wonwoo pulls away and tilts Soonyoung’s chin up to meet his eyes. Soonyoung sniffs and tries to hide his puffy face, but Wonwoo grabs his wrists and locks his hands down on his thigh. Up close, Wonwoo’s eyes are a deep dark brown, his lashes are thin and long.

“Let’s get you home, alright? I’ll make you some ramyun,” Wonwoo says softly, helping Soonyoung up on his feet.

Soonyoung had never been to Wonwoo’s apartment, and Soonyoung was sure Wonwoo would probably live far from downtown where it’s quiet at night. Wonwoo’s apartment, it turns out, was right above his.

“You’re the one playing the piano at night,” Soonyoung states, mouth opening and closing incredulously, as he stares at the piano in the middle of Wonwoo’s living room.

“Oh, you heard that?” Wonwoo looks abashed, rubbing his neck awkwardly as he ransacks the kitchen for ramyun cups. “I forgot the walls were thin around here.”

“Your pieces help me sleep,” Soonyoung says, as he wanders around the living room. Soonyoung didn’t recognise Wonwoo’s apartment but it _feels_ familiar— the texture of the couch, the fluffy carpet and the photographs that perched on the piano.

Most of them were photos of their group, and some with Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungkwan, Minghao, Mingyu, Jihoon, Junhui and Chan. The ones that catch Soonyoung’s eyes were photos that had the two of them only— some goofing around and others just smiling and posing for the camera.

 

_(“You’re suffocating me!” Soonyoung yells playfully as he lifts Wonwoo off the ground on his back. Seokmin and Mingyu laugh heartily at Soonyoung’s apparent misery._

_“Too bad you lost the bet! I’m your young master now, and you’ll carry me like this for the rest of the day!” Wonwoo laughs gleefully, nose scrunching into a wrinkle. He perched mightily on Soonyoung’s back, as Soonyoung carries him back towards the apartment with the rest of their friend._

_“Stupid Wonwoo!” Soonyoung declares dramatically, squeezing Wonwoo’s legs that were wrapped around him. “Just wait till I get back at you for this!”_

_“Oi, is this the way you should be talking to your ‘king’?” Wonwoo wiggles on Soonyoung’s back, causing Soonyoung to stumble slightly.)_

 

“The ramyun’s ready,” Wonwoo calls from the kitchen table. Soonyoung tears his eyes away from the photographs. His stomach grumbles at the smell wafting through the kitchen. They eat in comfortable silence, and Soonyoung finishes his serving in less than five minutes. Wonwoo watches him amusedly.

“I’ll help you clean up.” Soonyoung offers as he dumps his bowl into the sink and starts washing. Wonwoo gives him his finished bowl shortly after and then stands beside Soonyoung awkwardly. Wonwoo shifts hesitantly as if pondering whether he should say something or not.

“Do you… Do you want to stay over for the night?” Wonwoo says eventually, the words falling out in a tumble. When Soonyoung glances up at him, he quickly adds, “I mean only if you want to. You used to stay over a lot when you’re sad and mopey, so I just thought maybe you-” 

“I would love to.” Soonyoung cuts him off kindly, smiling gratefully at Wonwoo and drying the bowls with a clean dishcloth. Frankly, Soonyoung liked spending time with Wonwoo; it was comfortable to just be in their little bubble and it felt strangely like home.

“Okay,” Wonwoo says quietly, sounding a little relieved. “You usually just crash in my bed, but there’s a spare guest room that you could use.”

“Thanks, Wonwoo.” Soonyoung grins.

Soonyoung doesn’t know who moved first, all he knows is that when their lips crashed together, everything was irrelevant and far away. Wonwoo’s lips tasted faintly salty this time and Soonyoung sighs as Wonwoo deepens the kiss. In a rush, memories of every kiss they shared converge; Wonwoo’s lips were soft and chapped at the same time, he tasted like coffee in the morning, minty fresh in the afternoon and merlot wine in the night.

They break apart, breathless. Wonwoo’s eyes hazy with longing and desire. Soonyoung reaches for Wonwoo’s hand but Wonwoo pulls away and excuses himself to the bathroom. Soonyoung leans against the kitchen counter, hands clutching his chest reflexively.

Soonyoung feels it, the familiar pull in his gut that made his fingers tingle, this odd surge of warmth low in his abdomen and the acceleration of his heartbeat. Soonyoung may not have all of his memories, but he recognises this feeling—

He’s in love with Wonwoo.

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

The week passes in a blink, and Soonyoung’s standing backstage nervous and already sweating like crazy. The number of people who showed up for school’s showcase was insane, and the theatre was packed to the brim.

“Tickets were sold out in a week!” Chan had told him after the tickets were released for sale online.

The stage was bright, and Soonyoung’s heart was ready to own it, to throw himself into the performance and lose himself in the music. Here he is, trembling in excitement behind the curtains and waiting for the show to start.

His partner, Seulgi, adjusts the cuffs of his costume and whispers encouragingly. “Don’t forget to breathe, and smile. Loosen your face and don’t look too fierce, okay. Think of me as your Juliet… as Wonwoo, if you’d like.”

Soonyoung chokes on his saliva and he glares at Seulgi like _where did that come from?_ But Seulgi merely smiles knowingly.

“I was asked to pass this to you.” Seulgi hands him a rose and a messily scribbled slip of note.

 _All the best, kwon soonie._ Beneath the text, was a lazily scrawled _WW_. Even without the initials, Soonyoung recognized Wonwoo’s handwriting. He suppresses a snort because it was obvious Seungkwan and Chan forced him to do this. No way would Wonwoo be this cheesy. Still, a hot fuzzy sensation settles in his chest.  

“It was sweet of him,” Seulgi says amidst her last-minute stretching. Soonyoung leaves the rose tucked snugly in his bag backstage.

Soonyoung nails the dance performance and executed it with perfect aplomb and grace. By the end, the crowd rose in a standing ovation, some wolf-whistles and shouts. Roses were thrown on stage and Soonyoung could feel himself being swept away by the adrenaline rush of triumph and accomplishment. It’s over, and months of slaving away for this stupid lead role, and he’s done it. Soonyoung’s eyes search for his friends within the crowd. He spots them all gathered in the fourth row and Soonyoung beams happily at them before dabbing furiously. That earned a roar of laughter from his friends except for Jihoon who hides his face under his palm in second-hand embarrassment. Wonwoo was next to Mingyu, and his eyes shone proudly, nose scrunched. Soonyoung feels a sudden urge to jump off the stage and kiss him.

Soonyoung and Seulgi bow one last time before the curtain closes.

The after-party of the performance was held at Seokmin’s place. Mingyu and Minghao drive soonyoung home so he could change out of his loose performance outfit.

“Hyung, hurry up!” Mingyu calls out, impatiently. Their car outside the door was making a ruckus. “Minghao is honking like crazy out there.”

“I’m almost done!” Soonyoung yells back, almost zippering his dick in his jeans in the process. He’s not going to the after party in fucking leotard and tights. That’d be majorly unsexy and Soonyoung is all about looking hot. Quickly, Soonyoung styles his hair with gel.

Satisfied with his extra spicy look, soonyoung gives his reflection a thumbs up before running out the room.

“Look at you, all dolled up,” Minghao says as they hop into the backseat. “I think I aged fifty years just waiting for the two of you.”

“Sulk some more, and you’ll age another twenty, gramps.” Mingyu bites back, without much venom.

“I should never have taught you sarcasm.” Minghao snots, and revs up the engine before pumping the accelerator. “It doesn’t suit your baby face.”

Mingyu sulks like a kicked puppy the entire ride to Seokmin’s place.

When they finally enter Seokmin’s apartment, Soonyoung delightedly takes in his surroundings. Soonyoung could see a bunch of familiar faces from the college - to his right Kihyun, Hoseok, Jooheon and Minhyuk are playing beer pong, Hansol and Seungkwan are having a rap showdown by the karaoke jukebox (Seungkwan is losing miserably), By the couch is Jeonghan and Jisoo aggressively making out. (Soonyoung really couldn’t tell whose face is whose at this point.)

The high ceiling sparkles from the reflection of the water in the pool on the floor above. The patio upstairs was just as crowded, and just as impressive with padded lounge chairs and a small mini-fridge packed with cases of Heineken and sundry other assortments. Seokmin’s apartment was a hippie haven.

Without warning, Soonyoung is pulled from his reverie when a shout rings through the air, amplified by the karaoke loudspeaker.

“Soonyoung-hyung!” Seungkwan calls from the couch where all his friends are gathered, except instead of yelling into the air, Seungkwan shouts into the microphone. People stare at him in shock and irritation but Seungkwan gives them an indignant shrug like _what, we called him 3 damn times and he couldn’t hear me._

The moment Soonyoung is within reach, he is pulled onto the couch, ass parked firmly between Seokmin and Junhui. Mingyu, Minghao and Seungkwan squeeze into a loveseat across them. Chan, Jihoon and Hansol were seated on the couch adjacent. 

“Where’s wonwoo?” Soonyoung whispers to Junhui.

“He’ll be coming in a little later,” Junhui whispers back. Soonyoung ignores the little pang of disappointment in his heart. Well, whatever, he has his friends here with him and that’s good enough.

“We are gathered here with a glorious purpose, my friends,” Seungkwan announces theatrically, gesturing at the coffee table in front of them. On the table in front of him sits a line of soju shots balanced between on the rim of adjacent glasses of beer. Soonyoung groans. He knows he’s not making it back to his apartment conscious but to hell with it— he’s not planning to anyway.

“It’s Soju Bomb!” Seokmin grins from ear to ear, holding up the last shot of soju. Glass clicks against glass and everyone cheers as the row of soju drops elegantly into pints of beer, à la domino effect. The liquid sizzles and foams and they take a glass each. Soonyoung stifles a laugh and holds out his simmering glass too.

“A toast to Soonyoung’s ever-so-charming Romeo!” Seokmin shouts it out like a rallying battle cry.

“ZZang!” The rest chorused back, and a string of glass clinking rings through the air. The soju and hite mix burns in Soonyoung’s throat when he downs it in three large gulps. It wasn’t an  
unpleasant sting - the ratio of soju to beer was just enough to keep the crispy bite of soju and the bittersweet taste of beer.

“Who’s up for another round?” Junhui smirks up at them, slamming his empty pint glass on the table.

And so that’s how they spend the next hour: playing drunk Jenga and laughing at Mingyu who manages to get all the blocks that required him to drink. Wonwoo leaves halfway through the game and in the end, Seungkwan knocks down the entire Jenga tower drunkenly.

At this point, Soonyoung has had enough soju, makgeolli and cheongju to know that his hangover was going to be a pain in the ass the next morning. Halfway through a round of beer pong, soonyoung excuses himself to go to the kitchen.

“I’m going to get myself some water.” He said, holding up his hands in surrender and ignoring Jihoon’s manic cackles. He drops the sticky ping pong ball into Mingyu’s hands to swap.

“Pussy!” Minghao calls, his drink sloshing over the rim as he points accusingly at Soonyoung’s retreating figure. Soonyoung flips him off before disappearing into the minefield of people. Manoeuvring through an apartment filled with people and tipsy bodies proved to be exhausting. Soonyoung sidesteps a hysterical Lee Felix who is rolling on the floor laughing at Seokmin’s potted plant, bumps into a cute tiny girl sobbing desperately into her red solo cup, and another who’s on the verge of puking and soonyoung really doesn’t want his new shoes ruined.

Fortunately, he makes it to the kitchen, unscathed and still standing. Soonyoung scavenges the fridge for water and maybe some ibuprofen if he’s lucky, but all he found was a gross half-eaten pizza and a few cans of beer. Soonyoung ponders for a while if he’s buzzed enough to just drink tap water from the sink.

Before he could do anything stupid, Wonwoo shuffles into the kitchen to pour himself another handle of liquor. Wonwoo looked like he just stepped out an idol show, clad in an 80s leather biker jacket and black ripped jeans. His hair was wet and slightly messy and _oh god_ , is that black eyeliner?

“Hey,” Wonwoo says to Soonyoung, sauntering towards Soonyoung with a drink in hand and sits on the kitchen countertop across Soonyoung with all the grace in the world.

Soonyoung swallows and racks his brain to find something to say but he was literally functioning at a rate slower than Internet Explorer. The only options that came into his mind that wouldn’t result in soonyoung blurting anything remotely embarrassing is,

  1. a) hey, nice weather
  2. b) hey, nice jacket
  3. c) hey, nice face



His brain chooses to scrap the safer options. Instead, what Soonyoung decides to say with the confidence of someone who is not shitfaced drunk was:

“Did you steal that from Marlon Brando’s grave?” Soonyoung points at Wonwoo’s leather jacket.

Somewhere at the back of his head, Sober Soonyoung is going to murder Drunk Soonyoung the next morning. But, Wonwoo laughs, unaware of Soonyoung’s distress.

“Can’t I wear leather jackets without having to be compared to some tight-assed manic pixie dream boy trope?”

“Nope, not when you look like whole wet dream package,” Soonyoung says boldly and shamelessly.

“Thanks,” Wonwoo smiles and he gives Soonyoung a look— like he’s torn between walking out or kissing Soonyoung full on the mouth. Soonyoung prefers the former.

Wonwoo coughs and continues when a blanket of silence descended over them. “You danced wonderfully today. I loved your part in the Balcony Pas De Deux and your expressions were pretty funny. Just never put me next to Mingyu again, because he just kept going on about how he could see your dick in those tights throughout the entire performance.”

“I’m glad people liked my performance for my dick game.” Soonyoung huffs.

“Seriously, though. You were a perfect Romeo.”

“I was really relieved I didn’t drop her. She was very light, and I think at some point, my hand was really sweaty so I was fucking scared she would slip whenever I lifted her up.”

“Oh my god,” Wonwoo snorted loudly, “I remember in tenth grade, you dropped Yerim on her ass during Swan Lake and made her cry.”

“It was an accident! I didn’t want to touch her! It felt indecent! She was so mad at me, she stuffed all my canvas slippers with chewed gum.”

“Yeah, and she poured juice on your tights that made you look like you wet your pants.” Wonwoo laughs heartily as Soonyoung cringes in embarrassment at the memory.

As their giggles die down, Wonwoo asks, “Hold on, you remember?”

“Yeah, my memories have been gradually coming back over weeks,” Soonyoung says, fingers playing with the rips of his jeans.

“That’s great…” Wonwoo says, suddenly sober, eyes glazed and distractedly.

 _This is it, it’s your chance. This is where you apologise for everything you said to him in the past because you’re a new you now and you tell him you loved him and you were just confused._ Soonyoung bristles, opens his mouth and closes them like a fish, struggling to find the right words to say. 

“I wanted to apologise-” Soonyoung says at the same time Wonwoo begins, “I’m sorry for not-”

Soonyoung chuckles nervously.

“You can go first,” Wonwoo gestures generously.

“Okay, do you want to go somewhere quiet to talk first? It’s a little noisy-” Soonyoung starts, but is rudely cut off again when some random dude comes throttling into their space.

“Hey Wonwoo, I’ve been looking for you,” The guy says, wrapping his arms around Wonwoo’s waist.

Soonyoung tenses. The guy was dressed in a black tank top and was visibly more muscular than Soonyoung was. He was a lot more handsome too, in Soonyoung’s opinion, and suddenly Soonyoung feels a little small as the guy towered over him.

“Oh, you must be Soonyoung.” The guy with his hand _still_ on Wonwoo’s waist says, finally noticing Wonwoo was in a conversation with Soonyoung. “We were at your nutcracker performance just now. Sick moves, dude.” 

Soonyoung resists the urge to tell him that his  _sick moves_ were not from the Nutcracker series and were far from Tchaikovsky’s style of music. Soonyoung catches the slight twitch under Wonwoo’s eyes. Instead, Soonyoung extends a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Seungcheol.” Seungcheol unwraps his hands from Wonwoo and shakes his hand, grinning. “I’m Wonwoo’s boyfriend. We’ve met before.”

Soonyoung’s hand goes limp. “Boyfriend?” He looks at Wonwoo and then back at Seungcheol and then back at Wonwoo again. _When did that happen? Weren’t you in love with me? Do you love him?_ A rapid-fire of questions run through Soonyoung’s mind threatening to burst. How could he not have known? Someone would have told him right? Wonwoo would have told Mingyu who would have told Seungkwan who would have told him and everyone.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol drawls, “We got together a little over two months ago, didn’t we Wonwoo?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo says, but his voice had a weird edge to it— discomfort. Of course, he would be uncomfortable! Wonwoo was trying to forget him and here he is, trying to barge into his life again. All of a sudden, it hits Soonyoung that Wonwoo might not want an apology and that he could possibly be trying to move on. A wave of nausea washes over him and Soonyoung felt very sick, stomach churning like he just ate five Taco Bell beefy burrito supremes.

“Oh, that’s really sweet,” Soonyoung says, forcing a chuckle. It comes off as an ugly sound. His voice was brittle and dry. “I’m going back to the party. I’ll leave you two to it then.” Soonyoung throws them a half-hearted smile before leaving the kitchen. His initial purpose of drinking water, long forgotten in the wake of certain heartbreak. Right now, he needs to find Minghao and Chan and more soju. Definitely more soju.

It was easy to find his friends in the mess of a crowd because Mingyu was a giant and his head pops out among the crowd. Minghao was seated comfortably on the sofa with Hansol snuggled comfortably next to him, completely knocked out.

Minghao waves at Soonyoung from where he lay, looking up at him lazily but his face turns concerned when he sees Soonyoung’s expression. He sits up, and Soonyoung sinks into the space beside Hansol.

“Guys, do you hear that?” Soonyoung asks, laying his head on Hansol’s shoulder dejectedly. 

“Hear the fucking music that is going to make me deaf? Nope, can’t hear it.” Jihoon yells sarcastically over the music.

“No, I mean the sound of my heart shattering into a million fucking smithereens.” Soonyoung finishes dramatically, face twisting. “I wish I died in the car crash. I wish I were never alive. My heart hurts.”

“What, did someone make you watch Kimi No Na Wa again?” Hansol asked, suddenly conscious again at the sound of Soonyoung’s dismay, shifting his body so he could look at Soonyoung.

“Worse, Wonwoo has a boyfriend. His name is Seungcheol and he looks like a frat boy. He knows nothing about music! Why would Wonwoo date someone who doesn’t even like music? Why?” Soonyoung drags out his ‘why’ into a wail. Hot tears prick at Soonyoung’s eyes, but Soonyoung refuses to cry at a party like some pathetic sore loser.

“And you guys!” Soonyoung zeroes in on Minghao, Mingyu and Seungkwan. “You guys knew it all along and no one told me he’s fucking taken! And to think I _kissed_ Wonwoo last week, oh god. It’s a miracle Seungcheol didn’t punch my face in.”

“Um, well,” Mingyu coughs guilty, and he and Minghao share knowing sympathetic glances. Hansol rubs a soothing hand across Soonyoung’s back. “We wanted to tell you but Chan said it was sensitive and plus, it would be the best if you find out yourself from him.”

“I'm guessing Chan made all of you keep quiet about it?”

They nod in unison. Soonyoung is going to have a good talk with Chan when he finds him. How dare he withhold important memories from Soonyoung and made Soonyoung embarrass himself in front of Wonwoo’s cool macho boyfriend as if he wasn’t already pathetic enough.

“How did you get Seokmin to keep the secret?” Soonyoung asks curiously because everyone knows Seokmin can’t keep his mouth shut.

“A month’s worth of Wenchang Chicken,” Mingyu says.

“What happened to bros before CHICKEN?” Soonyoung throws a pillow at Seokmin who squawks apologetically.

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

The end of the school year sends everyone in a flurry of delight and excitement. The whole school seemed to be buzzing with newfound vigour and liveliness. But, to Soonyoung, the end of the year did little to ease the ache in Soonyoung’s heart. Just last night, he had cleaned a tub of Ben and Jerry’s after rewatching the Notebook and shouting “Fuck you Wonwoo, you’re missing out on this fine piece of ass!” Still, it’s not Wonwoo’s fault for dating Seungcheol. It was never Wonwoo’s fault because Soonyoung was the one that pushed him away, and it was also Soonyoung that decides to fall head over heels for Wonwoo all over again too.

The end of the school year also marked the ninth month since Soonyoung’s accident. He’s still a part-amnesiac, but he’s getting used to his life now so it’s easy to fit the mould of the _old_ Soonyoung again. Over time, people forgot that he had been in an accident too. Now, it’s just a matter of time before Soonyoung fully recovers.

Today, Soonyoung gets a perfect GPA score for his Performing Arts Final Coursework. That lifts Soonyoung’s spirits considerably for the day. Lessons were more of a closure to the entire school term than teaching something new so it was a lot more relaxed too. They did some core strengthening exercises and recapped old techniques learnt before doing stretching routines.

Soonyoung was looking forward to the end of the lesson so he could go back to his apartment to mope and be useless but Hyunjin and his big mouth always find a way to ruin Soonyoung’s plans. Perhaps, it was a deep-rooted grudge or just inherent spite for Soonyoung. Either way, hyunjin was still bitterly determined to make Soonyoung’s life a living hell.

“Hey scatterbrain, I heard that boytoy of yours came to the performance last week.” Hyunjin leers at him during a break between the exercises. “What’s his name? Wonwoo?”

Soonyoung clenches his jaw, a boiling rage licks low in his stomach as Hyunjin continues to deride Wonwoo.

“I heard he’s dating someone else now,” Hyunjin says, ridicule heavy in this voice. “Was your cock not big enough for him? Was he really such a _pansy_ for big cocks?”

Soonyoung grits his teeth hard from the effort to remain silent, and breaths heavy. _Ignore him Ignore him Ignore him, he’s just trying to jeopardise your reputation. They’re just words._ By sheer force of his willpower, Soonyoung unfurls his fist and waits for Hyunjin to finish his rant but Hyunjin keeps going, clearly wanting to push Soonyoung to the breaking point.

“I heard that Wonwoo opens his pretty mouth for anyone with a dick. Is that true? Maybe he’ll take me whole if I asked. Maybe he’ll swallow if I asked like a _cockslut._ You wanna know what I call that? A _cum guzzler_ -”

Soonyoung tackles Hyunjin with a roar, primaeval instincts taking over him. The sound of knuckles hitting flesh resounded through the studio. Hyunjin puts up a good fight, Soonyoung could feel his nose bleeding painfully, but he doesn’t stop until he’s hurled enough punches to bruise Hyunjin’s face. The two of them screamed at each other, expletives and profanities littered in their growls. Both of them are bleeding by the time his classmates pulled the both of them apart, and the dance instructor hauls them up to stop the fighting. Chan grabs Soonyong’s arms tightly as Changbin throws his arms around Hyunjin’s chest, holding the both of them back.

“What _the hell_ do you think you two are doing?” Their instructor yells. The class was deadly silent save for the laboured breathing of Soonyoung and Hyunjin. Soonyoung stays silent, only moving to wipe the blood dripping down his chin, accidentally smearing it across his cheek.

Hyunjin straightens his shoulders, jerking away from Changbin. “Nothing, sir.” Hyunjin pants. His eye looks bruised and his face a little swollen, but he smirks at Soonyoung nastily.

“If you two don’t tell me what the hell happened right this second, you two are suspended from class for a term.” Their instructor demands firmly, eyes glowering angrily at Hyunjin and Soonyoung.

An ugly pause descends upon them. The instructor waits, but no one speaks a word. Hyunjin stays glaring at Soonyoung and Soonyoung returns the favour, jaw clamped shut.

“Alright,” Their instructor says sharply. “You’re both suspended for the first term next year. Get out of my studio.”

Soonyoung moves first, turning on his heels and grabbing his bag before storming out of the studio with his canvas slippers still on.

It doesn't take long for the entire school to know about Soonyoung’s fistfight in the dance studios. Hell, there’s probably a video of them circulating somewhere on Youtube or Twitter. So, it was unsurprising that Wonwoo would have something to say about Soonyoung’s antics.

Soonyoung was patching himself up in the locker rooms when a very shrivelled and furious Wonwoo barges in.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Kwon Soonyoung?” Wonwoo demands, pulling Soonyoung by the collar roughly. “Getting suspended for an entire term? Do you know how that’s going to affect your records?”

“Mind your own damn business, Wonwoo. This has nothing to do with you.” Soonyoung shoves Wonwoo back by the chest, picks up his canvas shoes angrily from the floor and shoving them aggressively into his bag.

“Nothing to do with me? Then, explain this.” Wonwoo pulls out a video of the fight on his phone, thrusting it in front of Soonyoung’s face.

God, it’s already trending on Twitter. Soonyoung could hear Hyunjin shouting something and then his voice rings sharply through the speakers of the phone.

“Take what you said about Wonwoo back, you fucking bastard!” Soonyoung blanched at how aggravated he sounded. It just made him look so stupid. What’s worse is that Soonyoung doesn’t remember half the things he’s yelled during the fight, all he remembers is wanting to punch Hyunjin’s face in.

“It wasn’t- I said it in the heat of the moment. That had nothing to do with you.” Soonyoung lies, turning away from Wonwoo again.

Wonwoo catches his wrist and forcefully reels him back. “Then why? Why would you lash out at Hyunjin? Because I’ve never seen you get into a fistfight for anything before.”

 _It’s not like you at all_ Soonyoung catches the unspoken subtext. Soonyoung yanks Wonwoo’s hands off his arm, and snaps at Wonwoo.

“I told you, there wasn’t a reason. He just said some things and I didn’t like it. So piss off! ”

“Whatever he said isn’t worth ruining your GPA. You shouldn’t have-” Wonwoo presses further.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have! I am a stupid, impulsive, useless jackass! I should have clamped my mouth shut but I couldn’t!”

“Why not?” Wonwoo yells.

“Because!” Soonyoung shouts back. “I wouldn’t- I couldn’t just let Hyunjin run his dirty mouth about how you were a cocksucker and a cumslut, alright! ”

“He said that?” Wonwoo asks, voice considerable softer this time. Soonyoung looks completely wrecked, his hair a mess and his cheeks tinted pink.

“He called you a cumslut—said you were screwing everyone who asked for it—and I couldn’t… I can’t just let him talk about you like that.”

“They’re just words, Soonyoung. You know I never did that.”

“I fucking know that! I just hated the way he spat out your name and the thought that you were with someone else doing—” Soonyoung stops short, voice breaking. Soonyoung runs a hand through his hair and making strands stick up in odd places. His eyes meet wonwoo’s. Soonyoung steps forward into Wonwoo’s space and kisses Wonwoo, tipping his toes just a little so his lips could press against Wonwoo’s.

Wonwoo’s lips were soft and warm, just the way he remembers. Wonwoo tilts his head a little to deepen it until their lips are firmly locked together. Wonwoo pulls away slowly, his expression pained.

“Don’t,” Wonwoo says, taking a step back. “Please, I don’t need you to pretend that you love me-”

“I’m not pretending, wonwoo. I mean it. I want this. I want _you_.” Soonyoung promises, and stepping forward, caging Wonwoo against the wall of lockers.

“I can’t— I can’t do this again, Soonyoung.” Wonwoo shakes his head. “It hurts a little too much.”

“Okay, then tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you want me to leave you alone, and I will. I won’t bother you again if you asked me to.” Soonyoung watches Wonwoo with sad eyes.

Wonwoo gulps and he shakes his head. “I don’t want you to leave. I care about you so fucking much, it’s unfair.”

“Well, I care about you too!” Soonyoung countered. Wonwoo opens his mouth in retort but Soonyoung presses a finger against Wonwoo’s lips to hush him. “No, you listen to me. I care deeply about you. I’m sorry for what I did in the past, for saying these horrible things and pushing you away. I was a complete dickhead. But that’s not me anymore, I- I like you, Wonwoo—no— I’m madly in love with you and I want to fix what I started.”

“You don’t want this. You’re not gay.” Wonwoo denies weakly.

“Maybe, that’s what you think of me in the past but I don’t care who I was before,” Soonyoung reassures, hands reaching up to cup Wonwoo’s face. “Right now, the Soonyoung standing in front of you is never going to leave you.”

Wonwoo gazes into Soonyoung’s eyes, searching for a sign of deceit, insincerity or hesitance. Soonyoung doesn’t give him any of that. Wonwoo’s eyes flutter shut as he leans down to take Soonyoung’s lips again.

“Okay,” Wonwoo murmurs against Soonyoung’s lips and Soonyoung smiles contentedly, euphoria welling up in his throat. The kiss was more passionate, more fervent and desperate as if making up for all the times they’ve been apart. Soonyoung melts into Wonwoo’s arms, lips lapping at Wonwoo’s mouth happily.

After what seems like hours, Soonyoung pulls away mind in a blissful haze, and he giggles in Wonwoo’s arms.

“We’re two big idiots, aren’t we?” Soonyoung says.

“I don’t know about me, but you definitely are,” Wonwoo says, and Soonyoung gives him a petulant scowl. 

Soonyoung remains pensive for a moment before he looks at Wonwoo thoughtfully and asks, “What about Seungcheol?”

“What about him?”

“Do you love him? Are you gonna leave him?”

When wonwoo doesn’t answer, Soonyoung looks up, slightly anxious that Wonwoo might be polyamorous. There’s nothing wrong with that, but Soonyoung’s just more of an exclusive person when it comes to romance. Much to his surprise (and relief), Wonwoo looks more amused than guilty.

“It wasn’t- we weren’t dating. He and I just made a deal. I’ll attend his lectures and write notes for him and he’ll pretend to be my boyfriend.” Wonwoo says embarrassedly.

“Oh my god, you guys were never together.” Soonyoung gapes at Wonwoo, eyes betrayed. He had been torturing himself over the fact that he had kissed someone else’s man and constantly afraid that Seungcheol is going to barge down his door with a gang of muscular wrestlers to kick Soonyoung’s butt for kissing Wonwoo.

“But, why?” Soonyoung wants to know.

“Because of you! Shortly after you left me, Seungcheol helped me out a lot, and it was convenient to ask him to be my fake boyfriend. Plus, I had to do something to make it seem like I don’t need you.” Wonwoo defended.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Soonyoung pouts, peppering kisses on Wonwoo’s face and neck.

“You better be,”

“I’ll make up for it, I promise. I’ll give you all the kisses that we’ve missed in the month.” Soonyoung pecks Wonwoo on the lips and smiles innocently like a child. “Starting from today,”

Soonyoung locks his lips with Wonwoo’s again, etching the taste of Wonwoo’s lips in his mind so he would never forget.

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

_“Kwon Soonyoung, I mean it!” Wonwoo yells at his phone, causing people on the street to turn and stare. “Don’t go to that stupid party! It’s dangerous and it’s way too crazy. There’s usually a ton of junkies in their circle!”_

_“It’s just an underground party, wonwoo! We’ve been to some of those before. Why do you care so much anyway?”_

_“Because it’s Hyunjin and Changbin’s party! Of course, I care! They could get you into trouble, or slip something in your drink.” Wonwoo says aggravatedly, hands running through his hair in frustration._

_“They’re my friends, they’re not that bad.”_

_“Seriously Soonyoung? Have you forgotten how they_ _accidentally_ _locked you in the broom closet on the day of your first-year ballet exam? Or how they_ _lost_ _your iPod only to find it hidden under the seat in the toilet? And how they tried to sabotage your year-end coursework by short-circuiting the performance theatre last year?” Wonwoo recites in quick succession, proving his argument._

_“So? It’s not like they’re trying to kill me.” Soonyoung answers mulishly on the line._

_“Look, I know we haven’t been keeping in touch lately and I know it’s not my place to be worried about you, but their parties are wild, man. Every year there’s always a police investigation being carried out whether it’s underage drinking or reckless driving.” Wonwoo explains and then he sighs, “I’m just worried about you Soonyoung,”_

_“Don’t you have your own boyfriend to worry about?” came Soonyoung's biting reply. Even through the static of the phone, Wonwoo could hear a sharp edge to his voice that sounded a lot like jealousy._

_“I do, but-”_  

_“Yeah, see, I’ll be fine, Wonwoo. I’ll just have a drink or two with them.” Soonyoung replies, voice clipped._

_“Ugh! You’re so fucking stubborn, Kwon Soonyoung!” Wonwoo hisses into his phone._

_Wonwoo hangs up furiously without a word. This was not good, not at all. Soonyoung drinking with Hyunjin could only mean two things. One, Hyunjin is plotting something that’s going to humiliate Soonyoung or kill him, either way, it’s bad, or Two, Hyunjin has had a change of heart and is suddenly Soonyoung’s best responsible drinking buddy and would get Soonyoung unscathed out of the craziest party of the year._

_Wonwoo shoves his phone angrily into his bag and brisk walks to his apartment, cursing Soonyoung for being the most obstinate mule in his life. It’s so easy for Wonwoo’s mind to wander to Soonyoung, thinking about whether he’s eaten properly, or if he’s practising late again and if he’s okay. If Soonyoung wants to hang out with Hyunjin, then so be it! Wonwoo’s not going to get involved anymore, not when Soonyoung has already broken his heart so many times._

 

_Wonwoo’s phone rings in the middle of the night, around one in the wee hours of the morning. Wonwoo had gone to bed at eleven, lulled by a good book and a warm glass of milk he’s had._

_It takes a while for Wonwoo to actually find his phone in the dark, the shrill ringing noise raised Wonwoo’s hackles. He fumbles sleepily for it on the nightstand._

_“‘ello?” Wonwoo answers as he climbs back into the covers._

_There was no one on the line, just a pounding noise that sounds vaguely like an electronic bass and hip-hop music. People were laughing and shrieking faintly in the background._  

_“Hello?” Wonwoo repeats, voice slightly lilted from being half-awake._

_Still nothing, just a deluge of noise and music. Probably a wrong number, Wonwoo decides._

_Wonwoo was ready to hang up when he catches a glimpse of the Caller ID._

_The number belonged to Soonyoung._

_Wonwoo sits up now, slightly worried, hands playing with the hem of his covers._

_“Soonyoung? Are you there?” Wonwoo says into the phone. “Soonyoung, is something wrong? Do you need me to pick you up?”_

_Still nothing. Wonwoo was getting anxious by the minute. Eventually, there’s a scuffle and a smattering of low murmurs before the line went dead, leaving a very confused Wonwoo in the silence._

_Could he have pressed the button by accident? Is someone else using his phone? What’s happening? Wonwoo thinks. Could Soonyoung be in trouble?_

_Wonwoo dials Soonyoung’s number. It’s directed to voicemail. He dials again— still, voicemail. Wonwoo’s wide awake now, utterly bewildered by Soonyoung’s phone call. Wonwoo doesn’t get much sleep at all for the rest of the night._

_Wonwoo gets another call in the afternoon, from Chan. Wonwoo rushes to the hospital, flagging down the first cab he sees. Soonyoung lay unconscious in the gurney when Wonwoo enters the ward, and Wonwoo swallows the lump in his throat. He looked pale, with medical dressings covering his arms and a big cast on his right leg. A few IV tubes stick out from his hands._

_Wonwoo couldn’t help but feel responsible. He could have tried harder to stop Soonyoung. He could have gone down to the party and dragged Soonyoung back, and maybe this wouldn’t have happened._

_“You idiot,” Wonwoo whispers, as he sinks down onto the cushioned chair next to Soonyoung’s bed. His trembling hands reach out to hold Soonyoung’s. “You big idiot,”_

_Wonwoo doesn’t leave Soonyoung’s bedside for the next two days._

 

_A week after Soonyoung wakes up, Wonwoo marches into the dance studios in the performing arts building. Hyunjin and Changbin were gathered in their group, exchanging lewd Japanese pornography magazines. Hyunjin looks up at Wonwoo, indifferently._

_"Yo, if you're here to buy porn mags, we're out, man." Hyunjin waves a dismissive hand. "We've got an order list though, so we could put your name there."_

_"I'm not here for that," Wonwoo grits out, fist clenched. Hyunjin pauses, glancing up at Wonwoo unimpressed. "I just want to talk."_

_"Oh, I know who you are, you're that fucker's boyfriend." Hyunjin snorts derisively, standing up on his feet. Wonwoo jabs a thumb at the door and stalks out. Hyunjin follows, dragging his feet. The minute Hyunjin steps out of the studio, Wonwoo socked Hyunjin hard in the jaw. Blood splatters on the floor as Hyunjin wheezes painfully._

_"That's for Soonyoung, you disgusting asshole."_

 

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

 

 _Soonyoung knows it’s too late to back out when Hyunjin drags him into the shotgun seat of a blue Honda._  

_“You’ll be fine,” Hyunjin cooed, strapping Soonyoung in with the seatbelt. Soonyoung’s too buzzed to fight it._

_“Wonwoo,” is all Soonyoung murmurs, and he vaguely registers Hyunjin scoffing._

_“Yeah, yeah, your gay boytoy would be here real soon okay, so sit tight.” Hyunjin pats Soonyoung patronisingly. “Lee Know will drive you home.”_

_“But Lee Know’s drunk,” Soonyoung slurs. “Don’t drive and drink,” Soonyoung wasn’t sure if Drive came first or Drink, but his message seems to be ignored as Hyunjin gives Lee Know a thumbs up and waves. Lee Know drives unpredictably, and Soonyoung remembers feeling slightly nauseous as an ominous feeling sent shivers down Soonyoung’s nape._

_Soonyoung sees it first, the flash of white light and the truck careening into them in slow-motion. Despite the seatbelt, Soonyoung felt himself being thrown forwards and slamming onto the floor in a blur._

_People are screaming. Soonyoung wishes they would stop. Somewhere farther, he could hear the wail of sirens. It was a distant sound, muffled by the pounding of his heart. Soonyoung is fleetingly aware of the taste of blood in his mouth, and he feels the cold hard ground biting into his back. Why is he lying on the street floor?_

_Wonwoo… Where is Wonwoo? If wonwoo were here, what would he say?_

What are you doing on the floor, you dumbass? You’ll catch a cold! 

_Yeah, that’s what Wonwoo would say because Wonwoo cares about him because Wonwoo’s in love with him. Soonyoung wants to tell Wonwoo he loves him too. His eyes droop, and he could feel himself falling asleep. Maybe, he’ll tell Wonwoo once he wakes._

 

»»————- ☾☼☽ ————-««

 

The piano is playing again, its song traversing physical walls and boundaries. This time it was Liszt’s Nocturne in A-flat. Soonyoung settles on the bench next to Wonwoo and watches Wonwoo’s fingers skim across the black and white keys with ease.

Two handsome figures stand in an empty ballroom of an abandoned chateau and surrounded by faded opulence; One dances with grace, leading the other across the ballroom in a slow waltz. Together they twirl, like flowers in the wind. In step with the ballad, they exist only at the moment, in the tiniest fragment of time. Without concern for anything outside their bubble, they swayed to the beat of their hearts.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE HYUNJIN AND CHANGBIN OKAY IM SORRY I PORTRAYED THEM AS DOUCHE CANOES IN THIS FIC BUT YOU KNOW IT’S NOT TRUE. THIS FIC IS NOT REPRESENTATIONAL OF THEM IN REAL LIFE AT ALL BECAUSE THEY ARE THE SWEETEST SOFTEST FLOWER CHILDREN. 
> 
> In the unforeseen end, soonyoung and hyunjin become the bestest friends and hyunjin is dating changbin AND they live happily ever after, okay. I’m sorry, Stray Kids, I did you guys dirty I love you so very very much please forgive my sins for being a horrible writer.
> 
> Also, feel free to yell at me in the comments!!! 
> 
> Oh, and hey, mad props to Grammarly for being my beta.


End file.
